#apparently love languages are what you didn't get enough of as child so there's that

[weirdsht]

How are you, beautiful?. How about your life?. If it doesn't bother you, can I make a request Cale Henituse x isekai reader?.. Where does the reader not want to interfere with the story even though the reader loves this story but the reader is more important and chooses a peaceful life.. However, the reader often ran into Cale and his group made the reader always run away (just helping silently) because the reader didn't sign for it...Cale started to suspect because they met often.Reader often rejected Cale's offers 😂😂..Comedy and chaos

Leave Me Alone! - LoTCF & Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, transmigrated reader, cursing at the end

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Navigation Masterlist

“Ugh… what time is it..? Wait am I late for my classes!?”

You jolted up and rushed to feel for your phone, only to not get a hold of it making your heart drop.

Frantic, you rummage through the bedsheets, hoping you will soon find your beloved device. However, instead of your phone, you instead notice how you don’t seem to be in your room.

As you finally look around your surroundings you can see that you’re in a completely different place. Everything around you looked extra luxurious, you were almost blinded by how shiny everything was. Aside from that, unknown tools are also neatly scattered around the room. You don’t recognise them, but they look like magical tools that one would see in a fantasy anime or manhwa.

Creek.

“Oh my! The young master is awake! I shall fetch the healer!”

Before you could think about where you were and what happened to you, a woman wearing a traditional maid uniform opened the door. She seems to be in shock to see you awake. And so, she disappeared as fast as she came.

Not even a minute later, she came back to the room you were residing in. On her tow seems to be a healer. Once they settled in, the healer immediately got to work to check your body. As they do you wonder how you would be able to play this off. It doesn’t look like you’re in your world anymore, nor does it look like you have a way to go back.

“Miss, who are you? Where am I?”

The amnesia route it is.

“Who am I?”

The maid looks like she’s about to cry and have a heart attack at the same time. You feel bad, you really do, but it’s not like you can pretend to know information when you don’t even know where you got transmigrated. 

“Everything else is okay now except for their memory. The cause is most likely from the impact they sustained during the accident. We don’t know when those old memories will resurface. In fact, we can’t be sure if they ever will. My only advice is to not force them to remember anything as it could do more harm than good.”

With that, the healer excused himself to go to his next appointment leaving you with the maid.

Looking at the maid made you wonder if you’re in a historical manhwa and that you’re a child of a wealthy noble. Maybe you’re in one of those cliche tropes where you transmigrated as the villain and need to try to take down all the death flags waving.

“What are we going to do now young master? First, you lost your parents and now you lost your memories…”

The maid sobbed for a few more minutes before gathering herself and finally explaining your predicament.

Apparently, the only part you got right was the wealthy part. Your name is still [Name] [Lastname] surprisingly enough and you’re a magician’s child. Unlike other magicians who are neck-deep into their research, your parents focused more on commerce. The result of their efforts is the wealth your family has now, the [Lastname] family are as wealthy as nobles because of various magical tools they invent and sell.

“Of course, we are not as wealthy as the Henituse family or any of the duchies in the kingdom.”

Well, that’s a given since the Henituse is on a different level.

…wait Henituse? Like Cale Henituse? From the holy trinity of web novels? Lout of the Count’s Family?

And so that was how you confirmed that you have been transmigrated in your beloved manhwa/web novel as a no-name extra that isn’t even mentioned once.

The life of a wealthy, orphaned amnesiac seems to be good to you. You have everything at your disposal as there are servants at your every beck and call. Income is also a no-brainer as your body seems to remember mana and how it works. Creating and modifying magical tools and potions come to you easily.

In the midst of everything you still manage to find time to support your favourite characters from behind the scenes. You don’t have any plans on stepping into the limelight but you also can’t help but meddle a little since you hold those characters belovedly in your heart.

‘If Cale Henituse can’t stay still and live as a wealthy slacker then I shall do it for him!’

That was supposed to be the plan.

“Good day I am Ron and I am a servant of young master Cale Henituse.”

So why is this goddamn assassin interrupting your tea time at your favourite cafe!?

“Ah, the new hero of the kingdom. What could such a person need with a humble person like myself?”

You blatantly put your guard up, showing the cunning man you won’t give in to his whims.

“A prodigy such as yourself can hardly be called humble. But on that note, our young master would like to avail your services.”

…what now?

“I’m sorry Mister Ron but I do not do commissions. I work to provide for the masses, free from the constraint of an employer even if it’s a temporary one.”

You composed yourself and pushed down the urge to throw a fit right then and there. But Ron didn’t seem to notice your efforts as he slid a bag of gold coins across the table. He probably thinks you’d do the job at the right price.

“Money won't change anything. I have enough to sustain me for a lifetime. Now please excuse me as I only wish to lounge around.”

With that, you stood up and left the cafe.

The days following that weren’t easy. Everywhere you go, you seem to bump into one of Cale’s people. It has gotten to a point where you have to pause your meddling endeavours because they almost caught you a couple of times.

But since when has fate been on anyone’s side in LoTCF?

“I’m Choi Han from the Henituse family I am here on behalf of Cale-nim.”

“I’m Hans visiting on behalf of young master Cale.”

“I am the priestess Cage, I am visiting with Marquis Taylor Stan to conduct business.”

“Can you help this poor soul named Bob?”

“Hello, I’m Cale Henituse. I’m sure you’ve met the people I sent to your house.”

Cale Henituse is more persistent than you thought. He wouldn’t stop no matter how much you try to refuse his antics. It even came to a point where he had to visit you himself.

But still, even if you love his character deeply… there’s no way you would let yourself be caught up in his whims.

It’ll be the end of your peaceful life once that happens.

“Young master [Name] the prince, his Highness Alberu Crossman has ordered your presence in his castle.”

“That fu–”

“Did you say something, young master?”

“Ah no… you must’ve heard wrong.”

You plastered a smile on your face as the maid handed you the summon letter. The maid excused herself after handing you the letter to give you privacy. 

Just before you could open the letter you could hear some rustling from the window. You cautiously approached it as the noise seemed to be deliberate. Once you got on the windowsill you noticed a piece of folded paper neatly tucked in.

Goodluck 

“That fucking piece of shit! Favourite character my ass!”

[hoperays-song]

Love Languages

In honor of Valentine's Day today and Lupercalia tomorrow, here's a headcanon list of Sing character's love languages! Enjoy!

-------------------------------------------------

Buster: Physical Touch, Acts of Service

Eddie: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time

Ash: Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation

Porsha: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time

Marcus: Quality Time, Acts of Service

Stan: Receiving Gifts, Physical Touch

Barry: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time

Johnny: Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation

Meena: Acts of Service, Physical Touch

Alfonso: Words of Affirmation, Receiving Gifts

Ryan: Quality Time, Physical Touch

Nooshy: Receiving Gifts, Quality Time

Nana: Acts of Service, Quality Time

Clay: Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation

Mrs. Crawly: Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation

Darius: Physical Touch, Receiving Gifts

Harry: Quality Time, Acts of Service

Gunter: Receiving Gifts, Words of Affirmation

Suki: Acts of Service, Quality Time

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loved settling in to a new routine with Rose at home. Taking care of you and the baby felt natural. If the most stressful thing he has to deal with was her godfather, then he counted it as a win.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, swearing, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Here are your books," Bradley said softly as he carried his daughter around her nursery to her bookshelf. "And here is your crib." She blinked up at him and yawned, and he broke out into a smile. "And here's the chair from your grandparents where Mommy is going to feed you so you can take a nap."

You were standing in the doorway with both hands on Tramp's collar while he whimpered nonstop. "He's not going to rest until he gets to sniff her again," you said, fighting to hang onto him. "And lick her, and roll around on the floor next to her."

"Fine," Bradley said with a sigh. Tramp just spent twenty minutes losing his mind over the baby, but apparently that wasn't enough. Bradley sank down onto the floor with Rose in his arms, and she stretched her fists up toward his face and gave a soft cry. She looked adorable in the outfit your parents bought for her, and his heart clenched like always when he imagined how his own mom and dad would have reacted to being grandparents.

"Here he comes," you said, releasing the collar, and Tramp bounded the rest of the way into the nursery, whimpering and shaking with excitement. He licked the top of Rose's head, making her cry in the process before he started sniffing her hands.

"For fuck's sake," Bradley grunted, trying to coax Tramp to sit down while Rose curled up against his chest. "He's more excited about the baby than I am."

Carefully you sat next to him on the soft rug that looked like a cloud in the airplane nursery, kissing his cheek before you said, "Don't swear in front of the child."

He rolled his eyes. "She can't understand it yet."

You gave him a pointed look. "Don't make me take away your privileges."

Bradley opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but he was immediately silenced as you pulled your shirt over your head and got ready to feed Rose. "Shit," he muttered, wondering how the fuck he was going to last six weeks with your tits in his face and zero chance at intercourse. "I'll behave."

"While Rose eats, I think we should talk about a few things," you whispered, taking her into your arms with a smile and kissing her cheek before getting her situated.

Bradley pulled Tramp onto his lap, doing his best to keep him from loudly sniffing his human sister and making her cry again. Bradley watched you fidget with your leggings around your waist. "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" he asked while you fed Rose.

"No," you muttered, not looking at him. "My body is like a deflated balloon."

"Baby Girl," he whispered, leaning in to kiss your ear softly. "You're only a few days postpartum. You birthed an entire person. And you look beautiful. You always will."

He gave up his quest to keep Tramp at bay and let the dog lick the baby's foot as you started crying. "I think my hormones are going insane again," you sobbed, and he wrapped one arm around your shoulders and helped you hold Rose with the other. "And I'm really tired."

"I know," he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. "That's why I'm sending you and the Nugget both for nap time as soon as she's done. Now let's talk about what you want to talk about."

"Right," you said with a sob, like you had forgotten all about it. "My parents aren't going to stop bugging until I tell them when they can come visit."

Now that the attic was available, Bradley didn't mind having them in the house all that much. "Since I'm taking the next week off, why don't you tell them to come out the week after that? So you can have some help when I'm on base?"

"That's a good idea," you said as you carefully maneuvered Rose to your other breast. "We also need to give Rose a godfather." Bradley closed his eyes and pictured literally anybody but Jake. "And I was thinking Jake."

He heaved a weary sigh. "Of course you were," he grouched as Tramp finally calmed down and curled up on the floor. You looked at Bradley without saying a word, and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Hard. Jake was a fucking pain in the ass. He always has been, and he always will be. But... he took care of you when Josh tried to assault you while Bradley was deployed. And Jake was the one he turned to when he had a panic attack about getting himself killed before he got to meet his daughter. Jake even graciously promised he would look after you and Rosie and finish building the playset if something happened to him. And he never gave Bradley a hard time for any of it.

"Fuck. How the fuck is this my life?" Bradley groaned, sprawling out on the floor with Tramp and staring at the ceiling.

"What did I say about all the swearing, Roo?" you scolded, but when Bradley focused his gaze on your face, you were smiling. "Does that mean you're okay with Jake?"

Bradley looked at Rose and then back at you. "Yeah," he rasped while wincing.

"Perfect. We can tell him when he stops over tomorrow."

"He's coming over tomorrow?"

"Yes. With Cat and Jeremiah," you said, wiping Rose's lips with a burp cloth as Bradley sat up again.

"Let me hold my Nugget to help ease my pain and suffering."

"You're so dramatic. It's not like you'll suddenly be related to Jake," you said with a laugh, literally flaunting your tits as you stood up. "I'm going to call my parents and then take a little nap as long as you've got her?"

Bradley looked at his daughter as she curled up in his arms. "Yeah. I've got her," he promised, and you kissed him before you left the nursery. 

"We're going to take a little walk," he whispered, picking up the burp cloth that you left on the chair. Bradley carried Rose through the house, marveling once again at how tiny she was in his hands as he tried to burp her. Then he slipped out the sliding glass door to the backyard as he said, "This Jake thing wasn't my idea. You heard your mother. She's got some weird ideas sometimes, but I love her too much to tell her no. So let's set some rules. Under no circumstances are you ever allowed to think your godfather is funnier than your old man, okay?"

Rose simply yawned as Bradley sat down on one of the swings, cradling her.

"Exactly. He's a snoozefest. I totally get the yawning." He pressed his lips to her cheek. "And when you're old enough to talk, I need you to tell him that your godmother is way cooler than your godfather. If you agree, then don't say a word."

Bradley moved the swing slowly as she snuggled against him and silently closed her eyes. "That's my girl," he whispered, keeping her warm against his body in the early spring sunlight.

------------------------------

When you woke up, your body was sore, and your stomach was growling. You didn't know what time it was, but your breasts hurt enough that you thought perhaps it was time to feed Rose again. You climbed out of bed and froze as you reached for your glasses. Something smelled good. Familiar. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you whispered, "Surely not."

Rose's door was closed when you walked down the hallway, and you found your husband in the kitchen, working in front of the stove.

"You're cooking Marry Me Rooster!"

He looked up at you with a bewildered expression on his face, like a deer caught in headlights. "I am," he replied, voice hoarse. "I've been training over facetime with your mom for months, but this is my first time actually trying it."

Your heart swelled with love as you took a step closer to him and your grandmother's recipe sheet, but he held up a hand and shook his head.

"I think it's best if I give this my full attention," he said, eyes wild as he turned back to the stove. "But maybe you should have the fire extinguisher handy just in case."

You backed slowly away from him, hand covering your mouth to try to keep your laughter in. Excitement bubbled inside you knowing you'd get to eat one of your favorite dinners tonight. Bradley was pretty good at cooking now. He could pull it off. Probably.

Your daughter's cries started ramping up in her nursery, and you had a visceral reaction to it. "I'm coming," you called out, already pulling your shirt over your head as you walked inside. The fact that she even looked adorable when her face was all scrunched up in tears was concerning to you; Bradley would be unstoppable with spoiling her.

As soon as you scooped her up into your arms, she quieted down. Her weight against your body was calming as you rocked her in the chair while you fed her, and you weren't surprised at all that Tramp was sitting at your feet with his eyes glued on the baby.

"Just wait until she can walk," you told him. "The two of you will be besties, terrorizing everyone else."

You heard some loud noises in the kitchen followed by Bradley's voice. "It's fine! It's all fine!"

"I'm kind of concerned," you whispered to Rose, running your fingers along her little bit of fuzzy hair. "But Daddy learned how to cook just for you and me. We are already spoiled."

To your surprise, dinner was mostly good. The kitchen was completely trashed, and Bradley looked like he just ran a marathon, but the food was edible. It even tasted good, if not a little bit on the salty side.

"I am so impressed, Roo," you said with a smile. He was holding Rose to his chest with one hand and inhaling the pasta and chicken.

"I wanted you to have something special. It's nowhere near as good as yours though," he mumbled with a shrug around some bites. "But it's okay. I'm kind of hoping Cat will bring food with them when they stop by tomorrow. She knows how to cook like you do. Jake and I would have probably starved to death by now."

He set his fork down to run his knuckle along Rose's cheek as you started to clean up the dishes. "I thought it was wonderful," you whispered. "Nobody else ever cooked just for me before."

That made him smile. 

----------------------------------

Bradley intended to write in the Nugget notebook while the events from the hospital were still fresh in his mind, but he passed out in bed as soon as you did. Rose cried three times overnight when she was hungry, and he realized he was actually quite useless when it came to that scenario. All he could really do to help was burp her. By the time he was making breakfast, you looked absolutely exhausted.

"That was kind of a rough night," he said while trying so hard not to burn the toast.

"I think that's just how nights are going to be for a while," you replied with a yawn as you carried the baby around.

Bradley spread some of the avocado concoction he whipped up onto the perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread that you liked, and he took Rose from you so you could have a break.

"Thanks," you muttered before biting into your breakfast. "It's still so strange that you're the one cooking now."

"Oh shit," he said in delight as he kissed his daughter. "I almost forgot."

"Stop swearing!" you called as he walked outside to the garage where that fancy baby carrier thing was. 

He'd been using it to lift weights, training for this very occasion. He snatched it up and took it back in the house where he set Rose down on the couch to fasten the straps around himself. "Look at this!" he said, slipping the baby in against his chest. You were shaking your head and finishing your toast as he paraded around wearing Rose.

"You're so adorable, Roo."

"It's not me. It's the baby." He looked down at her cute face where her cheek was squished against his chest. "Can't get enough."

You wrapped your arms carefully around him, turning Rose into a sandwich as you ran your fingers through the hair along his temples. "You are such a DILF, Bradley. Gray hairs and heart eyes for your daughter."

"Stop," he groaned, turning to kiss your wrist. "Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be for me to not fuck you right now?" Someone knocked on the front door and he gave you a look. "What time did you tell Jake and Cat to stop by?"

"Tonight," you replied, heading across the living room. "It couldn't be them."

Bradley was relieved to see Maverick when you opened the door. "I'm not staying," he said as you invited him inside with bags in his hands. "I just wanted to see this little one for myself and drop some things off." He shook Bradley's hand and then just stood there with his hands on his hips, watching Rose slowly fall asleep in her carrier. "My god," he whispered, eyes shining with tears. "A brand new Bradshaw."

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked him, already reaching for the carrier. But Maverick shook his head.

"No, let her sleep. I'll come back one day with Penny and Amelia. We'll bring pizza. Just let us know which night is good." He looked up at Bradley, cuffing him on the shoulder as he said, "I wanted to be one of the first to say congratulations. Your mom and dad would have been overjoyed."

"Thanks, Mav," Bradley whispered, tears in his own eyes now. "I'm kind of obsessed with her, so I know my mom would have been as well."

Maverick shook his head, still giving Bradley's bicep a squeeze. "Your dad would have never shut up about having a granddaughter. That's a fact."

Bradley pulled his godfather in for a hug before he left with the promise to return later in the week when he was invited. Then he kissed the top of Rose's head as you rummaged around in the bags that had been left behind.

"Penny seems to have gone a bit overboard with groceries," you muttered, pulling lunch meat, bread and some chicken breasts from one of the bags. "Oh! A bottle of pink champagne!"

"Put it in the fridge," Bradley said. "I'm going to need a drink after you tell Jake he'll be the Nugget's godfather."

You rolled your eyes and dug around in a gift bag that was overflowing with tissue paper, and you gasped as you pulled out two stuffed animals. They simply looked like birds, but when Bradley took a step closer, he laughed. 

"Mav really bought Rosie a plush goose and a plush rooster."

You had a bright smile on your beautiful face as you examined them. "He's quite the joker, but these are so cute. I'm going to put them in her nursery."

"After that, you should go take a nap," Bradley said, swaying slowly from side to side with his hand resting on the back of his daughter's head while she napped. "This little girl is sound asleep, and I can do a few chores with her in the carrier."

You gave him a look that would usually mean he was getting lucky later, but that was off the table right now. When you walked past, you kissed Rose's hand and then his cheek before you said, "Make sure you chill the champagne. We can have fun later."

-------------------------------

Jake, Cat and Jeremiah arrived with balloons, boxes of diapers, meals in tupperware containers, and a lot of excitement. 

"You didn't have to bring all of this," you said as Jake stacked things up inside the front door.

"Yes, they did," Bradley muttered, taking a peek in the food containers. "There's a casserole and a lasagna."

"You literally just ate dinner," you told him, handing Rose over to Cat who was practically vibrating with excitement. But Bradley wasn't listening as he followed the very inquisitive two year old boy around the living, making sure he didn't get hurt chasing Tramp.

"Why do babies smell so good?" Cat asked as Rose squirmed a bit in her arms. "So fresh and clean."

You didn't even get to respond before Jake squeezed you tight and said, "Congratulations, Angel. You mated with Bradshaw, and somehow the baby turned out cute."

"I would say something," Bradley retorted from next to the couch, "but I'm not allowed to swear in front of children."

Jake snorted. "I'm just messing around."

"Hey, I'm going to take him outside to play on the swings for a bit," Bradley said, scooping Jeremiah up before he could yank on Tramp's tail.

You gave him a pointed look and nodded toward Jake. "Don't we have something we'd like to ask him first?"

Bradley's smile turned into a bit of a frown. "No. I don't think we do."

"Bradley!" you scolded, and he tipped his head back with a groan.

"Fine. But I'm not saying it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned toward Jake. "Bradley and I would very much like for you to be Rose's godfather. If you're interested."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Jake had you flush against him in a bone crushing hug. "Wooo, boy. Godfather to a Bradshaw? We do live in some wild times, don't we, Rooster?"

Bradley muttered something incoherent while you asked, "Does that mean you're interested?"

He released you and turned toward Cat. "Please pass the godchild to the godfather. I'm about to make this baby an offer she can't refuse."

"She's a burrito! Not a cannoli!" Bradley called out from the sliding glass door before heading outside with Jeremiah.

"Is Phoenix her godmother?" Jake asked softly while holding Rose and supporting her head.

"Yes," you replied, in awe over how careful he was being.

"You realize that spells complete disaster, right?"

"Sure," you agreed. But you'd never seen anyone hold someone else's baby with quite as much respect as Nat and Jake held Rose.

------------------------------

Bradley played with Rose on the couch with an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey on in the background. "You see what happens when you marry for money?" he asked his daughter as she wrapped her fingers around his pinky. "Sure, you get a Lamborghini out of the deal, but you also get arrested for tax fraud and embezzlement." He kissed her forehead. "Don't do that, okay?"

She cooed softly, and he took that as a sound of agreement.

"I'm ready."

Bradley glanced up to see you fresh out of the shower wearing the robe that Nat gave you. "I'll bring her right in," he replied.

"Grab the champagne, too."

He did exactly as he was told and handed the baby to you where you sat in the glider chair in the nursery before he carefully opened the bottle. The sound startled Rose, and she started crying hysterically. Bradley was on his knees in front of the chair instantly, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Nugget. That was way too loud."

"I think she's getting hangry, too," you mused, loosening the sash of your robe so you could feed her. And once again, Bradley was just captivated by all of it and so in love. He took a long sip of the pink champagne before offering you the bottle. "I can only have a little bit."

"I know Sweetheart, but it's your favorite." You had milk beading on your nipple while you fed Rose, and Bradley watched you lick your lips before handing the bottle back to him. He groaned softly, dizzy from all of it. 

"This is so fascinating," he whispered, taking another sip before setting the bottle down. When he reached out to touch your breast, you let him. You felt warm and heavy, and he took your milk onto his thumb and licked it clean.

"You know..." you whispered, switching Rose to your other side. "After having alcohol, it's probably a good idea to pump some of my milk to make sure she doesn't get any of it."

Bradley sat up a little straighter, willing to get you anything you needed. "Want me to set up the pump?"

"Nah," you replied, shaking your head. "I haven't gotten the hang of it yet, but I'm sure there's another way you can help me." Your graceful fingers stroked Rose's cheek as the milk drunk baby started slowing down. "When she's finished, it's your turn."

Bradley jumped to his feet as soon as Rose started to drift to sleep. "I'll get cleaned up and meet you in bed," you whispered as he took the baby from your arms. He deftly changed her diaper and got her zipped back into her sleeper before setting her in her crib.

"How about you sleep more tonight?" he asked. "Give me a chance to play with Mommy before she's too tired? I like her tits, too."

He could hear you laughing down the hallway. "I can hear you through the baby monitor!" you called out, but Bradley had no shame. He kissed his daughter one last time before turning on the night light and the ceiling fan, and then he was on his way to you.

When he stood in the doorway, you were sitting in bed with your robe open. Soft light from your lamp was making every curve of your body look irresistible to him, and now that he had you alone, he knew he was going to struggle.

He made a desperate sound as he ran his hand over his face. "Baby Girl," he whined. "I want you so bad."

"Come here," you coaxed, rubbing the spot on the bed next to you. He was there in an instant, sitting with his back against the headboard as you crawled into his lap. As soon as you nudged his shorts with your knee, he swallowed hard, saliva pooling on his tongue at the sight of your milk dripping from you and onto his shirt.

"Oh, shit," he whispered, letting you get yourself comfortable before he wrapped his arms around you. "It's my turn?"

You ran your fingers along his scarred cheek and back through his hair. "Your turn," you whispered, lips ghosting against his as he throbbed for you.

Bradley took your breasts gently in his hands, ran his thumbs along your nipples and rubbed his nose between your tits. Then he let himself taste you to his heart's content.

-------------------------------

Roo is living his very best life, other than potentially seeing Jake more frequently. Hopefully Nat will balance that out for him. Grandparents are coming to visit soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[alicerosejensen]

Warning: unhealthy relationship; Dark; not a yandere Leon but almost; the reader has no family and friends; Rescuer syndrome (if you look really closely at the very beginning); mentions of alcohol; Dom!Leon; fem/reader; Older!Leon; Mentions of pregnancy;

Summary: He will love you until his death. You are his and no one else's.

A/N: English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes. Also I don't approve of this crap in real life and if it triggers you, please look at the warning again and skip it. Just because I write doesn't mean it's cool in real life. Build only healthy relationships based on mutual love, trust, compromises without violence.

If you look closely, neither of you two were healthy enough to build a relationship.

Of course you're not a pet. Even if you is devoted to him like a dog whose owner is drowning on the Titanic, and Leon has long been sinking. Of course, he does not consider you an animal and he is sincerely sorry that because of your injuries you cling to him, and he, in turn, succumbs to the selfish desire to keep his girl close to him.

You were so young and alone that, apparently due to your childhood traumas, you sought love from someone who tried to cope with his traumas with the help of alcohol. Leon didn't think he should have touched you at all. In his opinion, everything he touches turns to shit, and he didn't mean to hurt you at all. Besides, he believed that seducing such a young girl, even if you are of age, is almost a crime, however, he could not stop being drawn to you. My God, he’s already turning 40 and you’re a little over 20. Do girls your age hang out with such old men? You should find a young guy with whom you can do all sorts of stupid things while being on the same wavelength, and not cling to his back like a lost child. But in general, it’s not really a fact, but just an observation, but lonely people often have pets to while away their unbearable loneliness. Leon does not have the opportunity to get a dog or a cat, his job means that he spends little time at home, but...

At night, you sleep soundly, throwing your leg over him and reaching out with your arms to hug him. Leon catches himself thinking that he likes to listen to measured breathing and feel the soft skin on his body. His sweet girl... in your sleep you feel how other people's fingers are drawing patterns on your back and you fucking like it. Don’t care about studying, which can open the door to the world of a good career with a decent salary, love into which you dive headfirst is the most beautiful thing that has happened in your life.

And you are ready to hold on to him until the last... Well, actually, just like he does to you.

It’s deep night outside, the bedroom is in wireless darkness, which Leon is so afraid of because of painful memories, but why is he calm now when you’re sleeping so quietly next to him.

"Bunny?" Leon rarely calls you that, but those cute pajamas of yours with the bunny ears on the tank top make him smile, kissing your forehead because your sleep, unlike him, is quite sound.

In fact, he feels like a son of a bitch who sleeps with a girl half his age and, to Leon’s own horror, it’s not even lust. He himself doesn’t fully understand what kind of crap is happening to him, but the point is that he really feels for you... high feelings. At least every day it becomes more and more difficult to let you out of his arms.

But you're sleeping. An absolute angel and Leon wonders if he can mistake your compassion for love? Or do you just have daddy issues? Thinking about this, Leon grins, burying his nose in your hair. He has his faithful “Matilda” in his bedside table, and, in theory, he has nothing to fear, but he is unlikely to be able to live with such crap as before 1998. You planted an obsession for him, gradually nurturing and strengthening it, like a caring gardener painstakingly working on his favorite flower. You yourself cling to him, adjoining him, you are even ready to give up all prospects for your future life for the sake of him alone.

Leon kisses you and strokes your cheek with his thumb, pressing you to his chest, finally closing his eyes and falling into sleep.

Actually, Leon thinks that it’s all your fault. Who if not you?! It’s like you’re deliberately making him worry by putting the phone on silent or calling him back too late, which is why he gradually seems to lose his mind if he can’t be sure that everything is okay. He screams and you cry and apologize to him because you are afraid that he will leave you alone. This is your biggest fear, even if Leon had nothing like that in his thoughts. For heaven's sake, he really hates your tears and he hates feeling guilty about it even more.

"Just don't make me worry anymore" He asks in a soothing tone, pressing your trembling body to him.

And you nod your head, feeling how painful your stomach is from the stress you have experienced and your conflict with him.

"I'll never again...I swear"

You are a stone on his neck, which he in theory can throw off but does not want to. What's going on with you two is clearly not normal. This is immediately noticed by Claire watching how you loyally sit next to him and seem to be interested in nothing but Leon. Seriously, of course, few people from her inner circle like a secular reception, but Claire really thinks it's very strange.

"She's…" Redfield notices your discomfort when Leon walks away to talk to her. However, he himself constantly turns around to look after you while you are nervously sitting at a table with a half-empty glass looking at him with deer eyes. "How old is she? In my opinion, you don't really look like a guy who…indulging in young girls"

Leon squints into Claire's eyes. In truth, part of him realizes that she is saying a clever thought and the other begins to howl unbearably, because you are really the nicest thing that has happened in the last years of his life. So why the hell should he constantly give up his human happiness just because it allegedly does not fit into the worldview of other people?!

"I'm not keeping her forcibly next to me," he replied rudely, and Claire shuddered at the unusual cold tone, "She can leave if she wants to, but she doesn't want to."

Well, who will look after you if even all your loved ones have abandoned you?

The Redfields look disapproving, and when Leon returns to the table in a bad mood, they both see you clinging to his hand, anxiously flapping your eyes, calming down only when he quickly kisses you on the cheek and runs his palm over your back. However, Leon has never really hurt you. After a while, Claire even gets used to this abnormal connection between her friend and his young girlfriend, only rolls her eyes when she sees that Leon constantly sends you messages, checking how well you took care of yourself while he was away.

"She has problems with dad" is a fair conclusion, which Leon deliberately ignored, without commenting on it in any way.

And it wasn't even untrue. With Leon's help, you unconsciously compensated for what you were not given as a child, in turn, Leon himself treated himself with your presence. Because he knows for sure that when he wakes up, you will be next to him in bed, and you will not run away while he sleeps, leaving a paper airplane with traces of scarlet lipstick on his lips and a short signature "See you later", along with the fading scent of perfume in the room. He doesn't need to worry about where you are in the evening, because you are either in the living room watching TV, or in the bedroom, or in the kitchen. No matter what you are doing, the main thing is in his field of vision. If he need to call out to you, then you will respond, and this is the most important thing for him - to know that you are always in close proximity to him.

With each passing year, his control grows, building strict rules.

There is no point in listing them, and Leon knows that you would not violate anything even if you knew nothing about them. Mostly it was just for peace of mind. You walk only with him, don’t lift weights, communicate with strangers to a minimum and... yes, you don’t go to college anymore, because he doesn’t always have time to pick you up from there after classes, well, you can’t say that you were completely against it . There were already enough missed classes for this to become a problem. Anyone's problem but not yours, because...

“I will support you perfectly. My credit card is at your disposal, buy whatever you want or wait for me, sweetheart"

You weren’t a shopaholic, but sometimes you indulged in expensive purchases. Leon never objected.

They took care of you, you didn’t have to study or work, you could sleep until lunchtime, the only important thing was to remain an obedient girl for your Leon, who was too fixated on you. No normal person would consider what was happening to be normal, when you literally cannot leave the house without someone else’s permission. Should you walk to the store for groceries or just a short jog in the morning? Strictly prohibited! Of course you can with Leon, because in his opinion he is a guarantee that everything will be fine with you as long as he is around. You won’t be attacked by some crazy person or a rabid dog, he will carefully check the expiration date on the packages so that his bunny doesn’t get poisoned and other little things that were completely absurd.

It’s remarkable that you were an obedient girl, because your subconscious said that if you make even the slightest mistake, the retribution would be terrible, only the fear was not because of physical violence (no, he doesn’t beat you at all) but because you were afraid that Leon would find yourself another girlfriend, leaving you to choke on your own love or even kill yourself.

Although Leon didn’t threaten to break up with you at all. All lovers quarrel, but you were literally shaking with fear that everything would end, as if the sky would fall to the ground or the sun would stop shining, destroying all living things. No, of course Leon wouldn’t leave you, because his love is no less sick than yours. So his fear is that you'll probably realize he's too old for you, as Claire tells him, and leave for a younger guy. Leon simply cannot tolerate this shit, so he locks you in his house. And still you don't mind.

Leon knows everything his angel likes, from food to your favorite color, which can change depending on your mood. Unlike you, he himself was quite secretive, but you knew well some of his preferences and how to behave when his self-esteem fell through the roof after yet another death at work. Sometimes it was necessary to sit quietly in the next room, but more often just sit on his lap, stroke his head and kiss him. Kiss a lot.

And yet Leon was afraid that you would find a replacement for him.

Therefore, it was necessary to tie you to him so that no one could ever take you away from him. And the only option that Leon saw was to become a father.

“Are you serious?! Damn it, what’s happening to you?! Did she really so calmly agree to conceive a child with you?!”

For God's sake, the way Claire screams makes Leon's ears pop. In fact, only he planned, with only one goal to make you stay with him and fulfill his old dream of a family. But he will say that this was discussed with you and, in fact, you and he even managed to argue about names and what color you would decorate the nursery, which of course was not true, but Claire and others don’t need to know about it.

Leon didn’t even bring up this topic of conversation with you, he just pierced a few with a condoms and, fortunately for him, the result did not take long to arrive. With the first signs, Leon immediately knew that the pregnancy tests would show a positive result and yet he takes care of you when vomit turns your stomach. Like a caring daddy who collects your hair at the back of your head while you spew out everything you’ve eaten and strokes your back, supporting you. A warm blanket, a dim light, a pat on your stomach? It's all for you, baby, and for this little pea inside of you. Leon suppresses a grin, believing that his plan has worked... which is really the case.

"Oh, sweetheart, I hope it's tears of joy, because you don't have a single reason to cry anymore," Leon says when he looks at you crying sitting on the toilet lid, hugging his shoulder, and a positive test is lying on the floor next to you.

Complete shit, but you were crying literally because you were afraid that he would definitely leave now. Fortunately, luck, as you naively believed, has not left you.

Leon did everything to ensure that his little American dream and family were safe under his complete control. Firstly, he immediately said that his child needed more space, although the apartment was spacious enough and the three of them could live here in peace, especially since there was a park nearby, but Leon needed a house. The one that no one will stick their nose into, although in fact, despite the quarrel with Claire and the others, he is thinking of inviting them to the birth of a child. And he's not going to completely isolate you from others. Courses for young mothers, the same walks with a stroller near the house, it was necessary, especially since the baby and mom need fresh air.

You are required to obey and strictly follow all the doctor's recommendations as before. Of course, Leon takes you to all prenatal appointments to make sure that everything is fine, it gives him an unprecedented delight to be next to you at the first ultrasound. Damn, baby, you have to give him a girl! Although he wasn't against the boy.

It is noteworthy that you have never said a word against. After all, everything was fine with you: huge care, a new big house with a small extension for a playground in the backyard, which hinted at the obvious fact that this is your first child with Leon, but not the last. However, how much love he gives you while you are pregnant compensates for all the ailments!

And when you finally give birth, Leon, of course, next to you meets his sweet girl, whose fate, as he thinks, can only be envied. At least now you won’t leave him anywhere, but will forever remain with you and next to you, cherishing your little girl whom he is going to spoil just like her mommy. Leon will put the crib next to the bed, make a new schedule and take a million photos of his happy family.

He adores you and that's all you need. In the end, Leon even admits to himself that he didn’t need the child as much as you, and only Claire and Chris seem to see how abnormal this relationship is.

Only Leon doesn't care anymore.

And you too.

[lilgoblinbitch]

saw your post about rick and daryl, do you think you could write a rick TOWL smut with him angry that you left your post and got yourself injured and he takes out his frustration on you? idk why just had that idea after the recent episode😫

Grimes' Dominion 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

a/n: ahhh omg yes i actually had time to think abt this for a few nights. i added a bit of plot to this because i love me some backstory & descriptions. but anyway i made this pretty lengthy so if u wanna skip to the smut part just look for the '💋'. here is your plotty smut! lmk your thoughts ₊˚⊹♡

warnings: smut 18+, PinV, unprotected sex, oral/face fucking (male receiving), slight bondage, fingering, ass slapping, hair pulling, orgasm denial, degradation (use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’), language, mentions of blood and injury, angsty angsty angst!, reader is a mother, overall Rick is very rough so you have been warned

wc: 6k

MDNI

It was training day at your post. You had recently graduated from consignee and signed up to become a CRM soldier. It took you six whole years to get to this point. While your agility and militia knowledge were already unprecedented, the CRM didn't fuck around when it came to producing the world's most unrivalled soldiers. It was serious business.

Nearly eight years ago, you trekked a long journey down from your small community in southern New Jersey. You lost everything: your husband, your friends, and the people you lived with and grew stronger with through the grisly and dilapidated post-apocalyptic world. Terrible people – which were apparently becoming more and more common – destroyed your community, leaving very few survivors. It was you and your newborn child who managed to escape safely; you weren't able to go back to see if others had made it out. For almost two years you were alone, and your only hope left was keeping your baby boy alive...

Fast forward two years after the traumatic fallout you managed to escape, you discovered, or rather you were found by, a giant military in Pennsylvania, called the CRM. A military that bordered and protected a whole city of people – 200,000 of them. Out of desperation and maternal instinct, you bargained with the militia in hopes to give your two-year-old son a stable future. The CRM agreed to place your son in a 'nurturing fostering service' within the safe confines of the protected city – known as the Civic Republic of Philadelphia – so long as you swore to abide by the military's code and regulations by becoming a consignee.

Of course you agreed, because you were nonetheless terrified of what would happen to your baby boy if you didn't play it safe with this strong force. But for a while you lost it, you couldn't bear not seeing your child – they took him from you. You became defensive of your child, throwing yourself into dilemmas with whoever refused to listen to you. Except no one ever took notice of an angry and hurt mother because the CRM showed little mercy about their policies. And no matter how much force you put into finding hope about getting to your son, you'd always end up falling right back where you left off.

Soon enough you learned from acquiring an acquaintance that not only did the CRM take the only family you had left away from you, they were the ones responsible for destroying your home in the first place.

But now, six years later, you were predisposed to fight whoever and whatever got in your way in order to see your son again. You were a force to be reckoned with.

"No, you're doing it wrong. You gotta follow through, like this—" your sweaty hand maneuvered the heavy spear, sending it soaring through the air at high speed and finally piercing the bullseye of the target. You turned to the soldier beside you, who, to say the least, looked perplexed.

"What?" You huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face. "Ya give up? Need a break?"

"’Ey! Rogers, I'mma need ya to head back inside. We're gonna start sizing you all up for your new gear."

A brooding and strict man, Sergeant Major Rick Grimes, commanded the young man beside you. "Uh, yes sir," he saluted, then jogged toward the dome-shaped building.

Rick Grimes used to be a consignee like you were, and you even heard stories where he tried escaping at least four times. No one ever fled, or even attempted to, without failing. Escaping the hellhole was like trying to fit your right shoe on your left foot, it was entirely fruitless. But you heard all the stories about Rick, and how he got to become a leader. After the death of Lieutenant Colonel Donald Okafor, Rick was trained to replace his position by virtue of General Beale taking note of his loyalty to the military. Now, Rick was scaling further up the ranks. He was Sergeant Major, and in charge of the post you currently resided in.

You looked up to him, though, not because he was your leader, but because he understood you. He recognized how it felt to have your family ripped from your hands and not be able to do anything about it. You were able to bond with him. Most nights he would invite you to his apartment and the two of you'd spill your guts to one another over a glass or two of bourbon. That is how he got to know you, and see through your clouded demeanor that you kept in check. You were fierce and obstinate, because the place you were trapped in forced you to be that way, and truthfully Rick admired that about you. He was never able to relate with someone as well as he did with you.

Feedback echoed from Rick's receiver and he lifted it to his masked face, stating his position and whatnot. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to give you an order. "Well?"

He turned his attention to you, finally. "We need to talk." His one good hand snagged a hold of your arm and guided you toward a smaller brick-designed building, which you recognized to be the building that housed the high ranking officials like Rick himself.

"What do we need to talk about? And why is Rogers getting his gear but I'm not?" You struggled against his grip, a decision that ended with futility as his clutch tightened when you tried pulling away from him. You furrowed your brows and grunted in annoyance.

"Relax, sweetheart, you're not in trouble. Actually it's quite the opposite." Once again he faced you, stopping in his tracks as you both had reached the air-conditioned building. His grasp on your arm loosened and then reached for his matte black helmet detailed with red outlining. Your eyes darted across the room, taking in the essence of prestige and momentarily locking in on the various framed photos on the walls, which depicted a few recognizable CRM authoritative figures. One particular photo caught your attention, and you carefully examined it, discerning it to be Rick himself with a shiny black name plate decorating the bottom of the frame.

Your gaze finally diverted back to Rick, whose helmet popped off in a swift motion, freeing his slightly disheveled brown and gray curls, and his stern blue eyes – the spellbinding reflections to his enigmatic soul. And this man was undoubtedly a sight for sore eyes. 

The silence was disrupted by the shuffling of Rick’s boots, his curt footsteps leading him across the room. He pulled out a chair from the corner and without any trouble picked it up with one hand and set it down across from a dark wooden desk. “Sit.” He motioned to the chair, and then found a seat in the larger, more cushioned chair adjacent to it. Without a peep you sauntered over to the wooden chair and sat, folding your hands on the desk in front of you. 

“You gonna keep me on edge or are you gonna tell me why I’m here and not at training and getting my gear?”

His serious eyes bored into yours now, hinting that he wasn’t in the mood for your cynicism. “I brought you in here to tell you that you’re going to become Colonel under my order.”

You scoffed comically and dropped your hands to your sides, gripping the chair with force. “That’s ridiculous. Me – Colonel? Why?” 

Rick’s focus never left your unserious face – one that was twisted with amusement. With a slight tilt of his head, he spoke, “Because you’re one of the best fighters and you’re fit to start leading, I know it. And I trust you, so does Major General Beale. We both expect your habitual commitment from now on.”

While you were still preoccupied with processing this information, Rick reached into one of his sleeve pockets and pulled out a silver badge, decorated with ‘Col.’ followed by your full name. He slid it across the desk toward you and you scrutinized it before giving him a look of disapproval and sliding the badge back to him. You shook your head in defiance.

“No thanks.” 

He frowned and once again his frigid stare taunted you, something you’d undoubtedly gotten used to very much over the past few years that you'd known him. He leaned forward and for a second you could feel the steam emitting from his nose as he exhaled, eyes scanning your face for any signs of possible sarcasm. You were dead serious now, though.

“This isn’t an offer you can refuse. It’s an order,” the sergeant commanded, grabbing the badge reiteratively and this time placing it firmly into your hand. “So take it, and don’t lose it.” 

You remained perched in your spot, not stirring any muscle, just studying his face with the badge dancing across your fingertips. Rick was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Now do as I say, and meet me in that meeting room over there, in 10 minutes.”

You snarled and swiftly rose, shoving the badge into your zipper pocket. Without even giving Rick another look you booked it out the door full tilt.

All throughout meeting with Grimes and Command Sergeant Major Thorne and overlooking your shared brigade of soldiers, your mind couldn’t escape the worry you had about your son, and how you were going to escape and find him. Your mind raced as you tried to recollect what the map of your base looked like, so that you could pinpoint which weak spots there were around the perimeter.

You recall a little while back which security took which shifts at each area of the southwest perimeter where your complex was, but it wasn’t all that simple since sometimes they’d switch shifts around. However, security officers periodically switched their attention to different areas at a time out along the walls, so you could use that as leverage to sneak your way around and cut a hole in one of the fences–

Nah. That would be too obvious, and dangerously stupid. You needed to really think this through – come up with a strategic plan. So that’s what you were prepared to do after your first night of training as Colonel. 

Sweaty and disheveled, you entered your sleeping quarters and kicked the door shut, immediately peeling off your bulky armor and tossing your heavy combat boots across the floor. With a satisfactory sigh, you trotted over to the shower and flipped the handle all the way to the left – you needed a steamy shower to filter out all the stress your body had been loaded with that day. Not only that, the steam would help you think, and you needed your head clear if you were going to figure out how to leave successfully that night. 

If you were going to escape – if. You needed to keep that thought in mind, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be a piece of cake.

Frantically you shoved a handful of essentials into a black backpack – a lighter, duct tape, a pocket knife, flashlight, and a small glock you 'borrowed' from your trip with rick to the armory earlier. After zipping up the bag you threw on your combat boots and your gloves. You checked your watch for the time; 11:48 it read. The moon was scintillating in the sky and beaming with conviction. You took one last glimpse around the room to check if you had forgotten any extra tools or gadgets, and before you confirmed that you were ready to head out, you spotted something on the rusty gunmetal colored nightstand.

Inquisitively you wandered over to the table and examined a small, white folded paper. You unfolded it and inside it read, in urgent script:

“Meet me at my place at 11:30 tonight. Need to talk again.

-R.G.”

Too late now. Not happening. Besides, you were sure it was another booty call because for one, on busy task days like tonight, Rick often had a knack for ‘letting off steam,’ which meant fucking your brains out. Sorry, Rick, but my child is more important to me than easing your sexual frustration. And two, it was already reaching midnight…why else would he want to “talk” to you so late at night? Rick was just too obvious.

Speaking of Rick…

The man who shared his bourbon with you for the first time two years ago. That very night he had spilled to you CRM’s legacy and the nightmares behind it. The two of you bonded over your mutual grievance toward the antagonizing militia. Rick spurred hope in you finally leaving and finding your son; if anyone could help you escape it was him. But he changed – his interest in leaving the CRM no longer seemed to exist. After all, he was already climbing his way up the military rank. He was gaining power and respect, and that seemed to be more crucial to him then getting back to his own children. 

So, screw him. He had his chance to leave with you, and it already passed – because now you were tiptoeing out your apartment and being welcomed into the darkness of the night.

You were cautious of your surroundings, turning a few corners and eluding one or two officers. You noticed the southwest wall, which didn't look impossible to climb. You discovered a hefty pile of broken shipment container parts – bingo. And that's what you used to climb the wall. unfortunately your endeavor led to you stumbling and hitting both your knee and your arm against the metal object, then landing with your hands scraping against the unforgiving concrete. Fuck. What an idiot you were. Surely someone within about twenty feet of you heard you basically eat shit.

Gritting your teeth and whimpering from the twinge that shot through your knees and hands, you managed to put every fiber of your being to use and push yourself off the ground, only to end up on your ass with a humph. You winced as you peeked at your hands, using the flashlight from your bag to examine how badly cut they were. Blood leaked from multiple crevices in your palms, and you didn’t even bother paying much mind to your bruised knee or elbows because there was no time to dawdle.

“Shit. You need to get up now!” You scolded yourself, but as you tried standing up completely, your knees buckled. Well, at least behind this building it was dark enough for no one to see you, unless they heard you already…

Your alert ears picked up the sound of shoes marching upon the solid ground, and you cursed to yourself; someone was coming, but there was nothing you could do because they had already heard you most likely. “Just play dead, or pretend you passed out!” 

You heard your name being called out from somewhere behind you.

The pace of your heartbeat quickened drastically, causing your head to spin toward the voice. Well, shit. It was Rick Grimes himself. This time his helmet wasn’t on and he seemed to have abandoned his uniform. He was instead dressed in jeans and that black tee that always hugged his muscles so perfectly–

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice boomed in your ears as he knelt down to your level, and you shivered.

You wheezed and resumed your pursuit of getting your ass off the wretched ground, to which you failed. Rick noticed the cuts and bruises decorating your injured body and his face softened. He sighed, gathering your belongings, and then in one swift motion he lifted you up off your feet, holding you bridal-style. You bit your lip to stop the tears forming in your eyes; your plan backfired, you got caught, and now everything was out of your control. You felt so stupid and useless.

Rick shifted around with you in his arms, taking one last glance at your injured figure. “Oh, honey. Let’s get ya cleaned up now.”

He had carried you all the way to his room without any hindrances, and the whole time you honestly thought about kicking out of his tight grasp, nailing him where the sun doesn't shine, and booking it out of there. But the way his strong arms cradled you made you melt into him.

Rick lay you onto his large – well, larger than your own – neatly made bed and pulled your shoes and socks off. Before he could reach your pant zipper to pull them down and examine your knee, you slapped his hand away, scowling at him.

“I can do it,” you promised, although of course your trembling hands reaching for the zipper illustrated a paradoxical story.

Not to mention, the stained blood and soreness reminded you that you needed to ease up on any further use of them. It felt like carpal tunnel. Damn, that concrete did some numbers on you. Your exasperated grunts caught Rick’s attention and he ignored your misleading comment, zipping your pants down and peeling them off himself. The look you gave him could have been detected as either annoyed or demoralized. Either way, your body was weary and your mind still raced with unrelenting thoughts. 

Rick brought back a wet cloth and a first aid kit he kept under his sink. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth over your battered hands and then bandaged them up. You let out a few pained huffs while he went to work on your scraped hands and busted knee with his doctor abilities. When finished, his eyes scanned your body, being certain he didn’t miss any other wounds or minor cuts.

You, however, were busy ogling him; his beautifully sculpted figure that was outlined by the black t-shirt he wore, and the scruff that layered his defined jaw, and the way his pink lips pursed as his rough hand prodded your exposed flesh – it sent you into a trance. 

He adjusted his gaze back to your face, and you snapped out of your trance promptly, painting that stern cast back on your expressive face. You recalled why you were irritated with him in the first place – he prevented you from escaping.

“Y’alright now? Gonna tell me why you were scurrying around past midnight with this bag on you?”

Your hard stare didn’t falter. He tsked at you and grabbed the backpack off the ground, unzipping it, and dumping its contents onto the bed. When he recognized the gun to be one from the armory, it was his turn to scowl at you.

“You better start talking before I get angry, sweetheart.” His body flexed as he folded his arms across his chest, eyes cornering you and making you feel small.

“I was–” you cleared your throat and sat up with your hands on your bare thighs, “I was going to escape, Rick. I… I need to see him…”

Rick lowered his head to the floor in disappointment, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his other arm rested on his hip. He paced the room. “You knew this was going to happen. We even planned it together, for fuck’s sake!” You pleaded with him, emotion spilling from your lips. You stared at his back, watching the way his muscles tensed. “I have a child I haven’t seen in years and I–”

“Yeah, so do I!” He interrupted, “But that life is over, there is no more escape plan pipe dream. Don’t you get it?!”

His pacing ceased, and he waited for your focus to meet him. When it did, he inched toward you daringly, almost wanting you to test his patience.

“I got you that ranking because I trusted you and expected you to be cooperative with me in this mission. I was planning on trying to convince Beale to let you visit your boy but that won’t be for a while. I need your trust in this,” Rick’s footsteps approached the bed, his towering figure intimidating you. “Do you understand? Look at me—” his rough hand pinched the sides of your chin to tilt your head up at him. 

Your lips cracked open to speak but truthfully nothing could be said in that moment. The tension in the air was heavy and laced with despondency. You choked trying to enunciate words as you felt your shoulders drop, and your heart chugging on. Soon you gathered yourself from breaking down in front of him, masking the persistent commotion going on inside the walls of your skull, and the unabated sense of dread pouring over your body. You nodded your head in compliance and Rick released your chin.

This was a confirmation that Rick was never going to let you get away. And if he did end up finding a way for you to see your boy, living under an unlawful and controlling military organization was not something you stood for. With or without Rick, you needed to escape with your son, using any proper chance that swung your way. But if it was going to be without Rick, you needed to be secretive. 

You batted your eyes at him, aiming to give him a reason to believe that you were officially yielding to him. The way you looked under him, all battered and desperate, made a spark ignite in his brain. You belonged in this position – underneath him, following his lead, and obeying his orders. He was going to need to show you how insistent he really was.

Your attention remained undivided. Rick stepped backwards a foot and took in the sight of you – your whole body and the way your thighs begged to be kissed and touched.

“I’m assuming you saw the note I left you, right?” His tone dripping with vehemence and his southern drawl rasping, relaying a yearning to your eager core, which you attempted to ease by clenching your thighs. He certainly did not miss that.

“So you were planning on not only ignoring my note, but being reckless and trying to leave this post and then, what? Risk getting caught and dying and never getting to see your son ever? You need to get your head on right, and I’m telling you this from experience, because it’s never going to work out the way you want it to, no matter how perfectly you think your plan will go.”

You gulped and studied your hands, which were thankfully stinging much less. You fiddled with the bandage, until Rick demanded your attention with his authoritative tone.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you to cooperate with me. Keep that in mind,” he warned.

Your front teeth bit into your pouty bottom lip as you struggled to make yourself look uncritical of his “plan.” Rick’s eyes targeted your every move as you, this time successfully, propped yourself up and off the bed, bending down to grab your pants which were sprawled out next to your feet. 

💋

“What were you gonna talk to me about, y’know….if I ended up showing up earlier?” You flipped the pant legs so that they were no longer inside out.

“I was gonna do this—” Your heart quickened as he neared you rapidly, his arms finding themselves exploring your body and causing goosebumps to multiply across your vulnerable skin. He dexterously greeted his lips to yours, catching you by surprise. The man was quick with it. 

You melted into the kiss while his hands continued to trace your curves, eliciting longing whimpers from your throat. You craved his touch.

Breaking away from the kiss, the Sergeant gave you no time to protest, spinning you around so that your back was facing him. Taking your jaw prisoner in the tight clutch of his hand, his hot breath fanned against your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck come alive. “Originally I was going to fuck you gently, make you relax from your big day—” His hand slid to the middle of your back and he forcefully bent you over on the bed, scoring a small grunt from you. He took your pulled back hair into his hand and with a tantalizing tug of it, he pushed his clothed hips against your bare ass. “But now I’m not gonna be so easy on you, because you decided to go and put yourself in danger. Well, I’m gonna have to punish you instead of reporting you, hm? For your own sake…” 

Your heat practically leaked through your panties and down the inner part of your thighs. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved when he was rough with you. It stirred you up with the perfect concoction of salaciousness and angst.

Still, your alacrity temporarily repressed your aroused state and you barked back at him, “All I want is to see my son…you have no goddamn right to take that from me, Rick,” you cried, with your trembling hands supporting your upper body as he gripped your hips.

Rick delivered a firm slap to your ass cheek, then promptly straightened you up and turned you around to meet his sifting stare. You gulped, feeling submissive under his touch. You watched the way he contorted his face in vexation and you abruptly felt overpowered by him.

“In case you’ve forgotten you are under my command, and if you disobey me I have every right to correct you where I see fit,” he eyed your pout, huffing, “and I fucking told you already – you have to be patient, it’s gonna take a while.”

The hope you had was dwindling slowly, even though you really wanted to trust him. It almost felt like putting your full trust in him was equivalent to playing with fire. You couldn’t tell the difference between the two anymore. But ultimately Rick was right, you were under his command and the very least you could do at this moment was take his word.

His leer intensified. “Get on your knees.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the command jolt through your body with a cogent nudge. You conformed to his request and scrunched your face in slight discomfort from your bruised knee making contact with the floor, but it was still tolerable. With urgency he unbuckled his belt and wasted no time in freeing his thick, throbbing length. The sight of his cock was not something foreign, as you’d slept with him many times; but the way he was so much more ambitious in getting his cock inside your mouth and feeling you gag around him, made you squirm.

The restless man bucked his hips forward, enjoying the way your soft pouty lips hugged his shaft so magnificently. You moaned softly, the vibration inciting a groan from Rick as he grabbed at your hair. “Gotta do more than tha’. I know you know how to be a good slut f’me.”

You took his whole length in your throat, feeling spit drip down your chin as you choked. You started to bob your head back and forth, becoming accustomed to the size of his dick and how it collided with the back of your throat incessantly. He took it upon himself to grasp your head and guide you up and down as his hips pushed against your needy mouth. Your tongue traced the veins that protruded across his length, as your head quickened its pace. His grunts echoed in your ears and you prepared for his sweet release when you apperceived the twitch of his cock against your tongue. 

“Fuck, yes…good slut,” Rick sung out as he thrusted thrice more, shooting his thick warm seed down your throat and riding out the remainder of his orgasm. He pulled out and stared intently at your lips licking up the remnants of his juices while panting. His hand patted your head in approval.

“You think you deserve to cum tonight?” He taunted, his hold on your hair taut.

You didn’t respond, but instead observed the way his muscles flexed when he lifted his shirt off his back, and how he flattened his hair back with the palm of his hand. You were getting wetter by the second, shifting your thighs in anticipation.

You stood up, tracing your hand over his bicep and fluttering your lashes at him enticingly. He smirked, recognizing that look to be your calling for him to fuck your brains out. Your hands reached down to lift your own shirt off, but he swatted them away in protest, throwing the shirt across the room hastily. All you desired was for him to make love to you, to comfort you and promise you that everything was going to work out, and frankly your sore muscles from training could use as much appreciation as they could obtain. But love-making wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

Rick flopped you onto the bed, and effortlessly your panties were torn off and thrown next to your shirt. He kneaded your tits with his hand then bent over top of you to hungrily kiss your lips. Your fidgety hands stretched up to tussle through his hair but he broke from the kiss to pin both your hands above your head, rousing a dissatisfied whimper from you. The carnal man bent down diligently to grab his belt and release your hands for a moment, before grabbing your wrists and securing the belt around them.

Bondage wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to you but you had never expected Rick to ever want to partake in it with you. Nonetheless, your core ached further for his touch. His hand went back to pinching your sensitive nipples, while keeping his ferocious eyes locked onto yours, and lowering his head down to your throbbing heat. The lewd mewls escaping your parted lips sent Rick into a frenzy. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get him to do something, to give your desperate parts the treatment you longed for, except he just remained concentrated on the way you jerked and crumbled beneath him – he wasn’t even touching you anymore, and yet he had you folding already. How pathetic you looked.

“Rick, please do something!” Your pleas left him unphased. The only thought in his mind at that moment was how rough he was eventually going to fuck you. 

Finally, his finger swiped up your soaking folds and came into contact with your swollen clit, giving it a soft pinch, stimulating a ribald whimper from you and inducing your back to arch off the bed. “What d’you want, sweetheart?” His husky tone intimidated you.

“Need you, please. ‘M lonely,” You sniffed, overworked from all the teasing. He cooed in a mocking manner, and with two fingers he plunged into you, sending you into the clouds. 

“This sweet pussy needs attention, dun’it?” He curled his fingers upward, activating that sweet spot inside your squelching sex. With his thumb he circled around your sensitive bud, accelerating the speed of his thick fingers inside your tight, wet hole. Bliss clouded over you, and your head lulled to the side.

Rick hissed, dissenting your lack of eye contact. He yanked his fingers out all the way, giving a slight tap to your voracious cunt.

“Nuh-uh, eyes on me.” The glazed-over look you gave him was enough for him to give in and slide his digits back into your heat, this time being merciless by the way he finger fucked you with racking momentum. 

Your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, legs syncing with the rhythm of your swirling hips. Rick sensed your orgasm approaching – he ascertained that you didn't get to reach its peak by ceasing his thumb's labor and plucking his drenched digits out of your weeping center.

Your sensual clamors didn't go unnoticed; instead he hushed you, and bringing his mouth near your ear he rasped, "I decided that you don't get to cum yet. Not till I feel like it."

Rick really loved tossing you around, especially tonight. He arose, untying the belt around your wrists – almost as if he was showing mercy, but that thought was surpassed as he effortlessly flipped you around so your bandaged hands were gripping desperately onto the sheets, as if that'd prevent you from losing your grip on reality from what was about to go down.

Your begging hole cried for his further attention, causing you to become more agitated by the second. That is, until you felt his hard cock slap against your ass cheek, and his hips striking the back of your shaking thighs. The grumpy commander pressed his leather-sling gloved fist slightly against your upper neck, just enough pressure to ensure you stayed where he wanted you. You didn't plan on leaving, though – not until he fucked you to your heart's content.

He could take a picture right now, the way your ass pushed against his solid member so hysterically, as if your pussy lived to be stuffed by his cock. In that moment, it did. Rick grabbed his cock and lined it up with your welcoming entrance, collecting the condensation on his tip.

"God, just fuck me–"

One rigid thrust was all it took for you to fully engulf him. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling, stars eclipsing your vision while his thrust followed another one, this time much deeper.

Your whines bounced off the pale room's walls, alerting Rick, who hushed you with a growl, "Shutch'er mouth, the whole building's gonna hear ya."

A third thrust ensued, with the sound of his pelvic bone smacking against your backside and the echoing of your sodden cunt being governed by his greedy shaft. The wet squishy insides of your walls hugged Rick so magnetically, he almost gave in right there.

His pace picked up with each ram of his hips, and his assault to your clit. Your grip on the sheets tightened, bandages likely slipping off but that wasn't a concern. Shy whimpers were trapped inside your mouth as you gave it your all at keeping your lewd blubbers and cusses at bay. Your soft, muffled cries continued as he pounded into you strenuously and tirelessly.

"You're not gonna try to leave again, not ever." The thumping of his hips on your ass and him fucking you into the mattress was all too much for your brain. "I won't fucking let you."

You felt fuzzy. The dauntless rebel attitude you once had vanished, and now your were a blubbering hot mess under a relentless leader. His bulging biceps flexed as his leather arm continued pushing on your neck, the other hand groping your hip and then going back to flicking your clit as his cock rutted into your core. He fit you like a puzzle piece.

Your walls were pulsating and you sensed your climax approaching quickly. "Oh, fuck, Rick!"

"Don't you even think about it. So help me god, if you do..."

Rick's demands only filled you closer to the brim with pleasure, and you weren't assured how much longer you could hold it. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, indicating that he was probably close too.

"Mmmph–" You focused on grasping desperately at the sheets again, trying to fixate on the way the soft fabric felt against your hands and your face which was pushed into the bed.

Rick groaned out, whispering filthy affirmations as his pounding became more jagged and his grunts more urgent. "Wanna fill ya up, but you don'need another baby, not yet."

One last press against your clit and the band finally snapped, your juices releasing all over his cock, and his orgasm causing him to grasp your hips roughly as he used your dripping hole to help him ride out his own orgasm. He pulled out, releasing onto your back with a few strokes of his slippery member.

The bottom half of your body gave in finally, collapsing and being suffocated by the plush mattress. Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. He truly fucked the energy out of you.

"You gonna try that shit again with me?"

With half-lidded eyes you simpered and muttered, "Not without you."

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Ok, Taiwan, I get it. You're just openly fucking with us at this point. And y'know. I respect it. We all collectively lost our shit on you before, and now you're going to use it to troll us. I love you for that.

I am just so sad we didn't get our Trapped cameo though. *sigh* What could have been.

So, uh...Boss. Just curious if you really think a young man who was abandoned as a small child and has been in a gang life since then doesn't know the horror of loss? Like, dude. C'mon.

Though I do find it hilarious that the gang members aren't scared enough of Chen Yi and they need Eddie to come back and be feral to keep them in line.

Also this

*chef's kiss* He's gotta provide for his man in retirement, why not start a line of food products, lol.

And this was so damn sweet

Some day we will start getting some QLs with older leads! I mean look at the Golden Bachelor, people are losing their minds over seeing people in their 70s have love lives. We don't all just die after 30!

I also love that Chen Yi ignored the Boss' visit, so Eddie wouldn't get jealous.

And not him getting all soft about how small and cute Eddie is, while feeling him up under his oversize shirt. *fans self*

And look at how beautifully they match now!

Also, whoever put Eddie in that shirt deserves an immediate raise.

And then the conversation and kiss

where Eddie finally understands how deeply Chen Yi truly loves him

And y'know, the whole dying conversation doesn't bother me at all, because that's how Eddie has talked this entire show. Chen Yi is using the love language Eddie understands. But these two are going to make it to their 40s and then retire like their bosses. Because they have each other to watch their backs.

AND THEY HAVE MATCHING PILLOWS!!!!!

Can I also say how much I love how these two play with each other's ears, it's so damn cute.

And I know I haven't talked a lot about Zong Yi & Ze Rui, but most of their stuff was around the stabbing, which I don't feel like I need to post for posterity. But huge shout out to @biochemjess for nailing that bracelets catch!

I do love that Ze Rui is just 100% family already to Zong Yi's dad & sister.

I also love that Zong Yi apparently went to the Step by Step school of "Fuck kitchen hygiene, I'm going to take my man right here and in front of a window for good measure".

[novthewolf]

Two’s company, three’s a family - Part seven

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason…

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : long, too long (someone stop me), animal corpse, implied child death, crucifixion, depiction of h0rnisness, mention of s3x, s3xual undertone, alcool, violence, blood, use of french, angst, nazis, anxiety panic, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +19,3k (seriously, stop me)

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Love ? Have you ever really felt Love ?

3004 B.C., Mesopotamia

It might be a strange thing to say, but right now you are actually learning how to walk. Oh, you knew the basics, but you never tried to practice on real soil. It felt weird on your feet, gritty and dry; it kept scratching the skin. A mix of tickles and quite pleasant itches. The reason you decided to come down was not to experiment with new sensations but to actually see why you had to bind specific animals together.

You would have asked the other cupids assigned to the mission if they knew anything, but only the principalities were aware of the actual goal. So, as curiosity overtook you, you made your way to the open land once you reached the limits of the forest. You were taken aback by the seemingly huge boat sitting on the hilltop. There were a lot of people, nicely looking at the strange scene behind some wooden fences.

Your eyes followed the multiple coupled animals, and you smiled, recognising the ones you created. Apparently, humans were leading them to that structure, leaving you more confused than ever. Slowly, you ambled to join the crowd and catch glimpses of conversation to try and understand what was actually going on. You ended up resting your arms on the wood and lifting your feet off the ground to relieve the pressure. When you jumped on your other foot, you bumped your right elbow against someone else's left side.

"Ah, sorry! I didn't see you here." You hurried, turning around to meet the unfortunate human.

"Oh, it's really nothing." The person was reassured. You gulped when you recognised him. It was the guardian angel of the Eastern Gate who stopped you from reaching said gate in the Garden of Eden. "Did you hurt your foot? My, you certainly will without any shoes on." He rambled in a worried tone. You started to worry as well. Did you just permanently damage your ride? By ride, you meant your physical body.

"No, no! I'm fine." You backed out slightly when he reached down for your leg. "I'm an angel too. My feet aren't hurt, I hope, and I never heard of... shoes? Anyway, please don't mind me." You dismissed me, looking for a way out.

He didn't seem surprised that you were an angel too. But your shattered heart missed a beat. You didn't mean to confess that. Does he remember your status? If he is aware, is he informed enough about your kind? No walking on earth, no feelings, no meddling in other angels' business. But instead of accusing you of not obeying your superior, he just nodded and actually miracled you some'shoes'. It was a really sweet gesture; you didn't know how to react. You simply muttered a small and bashful thank you and watched him kneel down in front of you.

You squinted your eyes, distruting the gentle way he took your scratched foot and helped you slide it inside the unfamiliar fabric. Once you were equipped, you trampled on the soil, laughing incredulously. It didn't hurt anymore !

"Thank you !" You exclaimed, giddy. And you were grateful to find that your overexcitement didn't faze him; he smiled brightly and joined his hands.

"Oh, there is no problem at all !" He laughed in a breath. Seeing that he seemed open-minded, you yearned to ask him the questions that burned your lips. However, someone interrupted you.

"Hello Aziraphale." A demon greeted him, his yellow snake eyes fixed on the guardian angel's face. He took place on Aziraphale's right side. You audibly gasped out of fear and embarrassment. Those two were the ones you linked back in the garden ! Plus, having a demon so close was still overwhelming.

"Crawley..." Aziraphale smiled nervously, his eyes going back and forth between you and the demon. That was when the redhead spotted you and tilted his head to the side to see you better.

"Hello there." He grinned with all his teeth. Intimitated, you simply hummed as a hello. Crawley then turned to Aziraphale. "So giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you ?" He teased.

"You gave your sword away ?" You blurred out.

The angel huffed, flustered, and took some time to figure out what to say next. "There were really dangerous creatures out of the garden; they needed some protection." He rambled your way, then turned to the demon. "And the Almighty has never actually mentioned it again."

Crawley shrugged. "Probably a good thing... What's all this about ?" He gestured at the whole commotion. You nodded in agreement.

"Did they have a sudden urge to build a floating zoo ? Is it a common occurrence for humans ?" You wondered, truly curious.

"Well, they do have particular little quirks, but I never saw it come to that extent." The demon trailed, not meeting your eyes.

"From what I hear, God's a bit techy. Wiping out the human race. Big storm." Aziraphale gestured, and you smelled moonflower and moss, which you learned to recognise as sadness, even if he didn't show it. While Crawley's scent made you crunch your nose, you turned to him and watched his expression swing from outrage to disbelief.

"All of them ?"

"Just the locals." He nodded with tight lips. "I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese. Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians."

"What about the animals ?" You asked deeply, worried as you grasped his white sleeve. There was limited contact between you and animals, but every time you spent time with them, you felt a strong pull towards them, and you couldn't help but coo and coddle them.

"Oh no, God's not actually going to wipe out every creature." He flinched at your touch and was slowly pulling away. Despite your need for reassurance, you knew none of your fellow angels liked to touch you, so you let go. You felt the demon's eyes on you.

"You see Noah up there ?" He pointed towards the hill, and both of you looked up. "His family, his sons, their wives, and every couple of animals they brought in, they're all going to be fine."

"But they are drowning everybody else." He sneered, truly peeved. Aziraphale couldn't even answer and rather preferred to nod in agreement with sealed lips. Goats bleated in the background, catching your attention, and you turned around. Kids came running along them, blissfully playing and laughing. You shuddered.

"Not the kids. You can't kill kids." Crawley argued. He felt more disgusted by it than he showed, and you tilted your head to get a better look at him. You didn't expect him to care. Aziraphale hummed, darting his eyes away. Your heart sank, and you gulped.

"Well, that's more the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do."

Yeah, so why isn't that the case?

As if he sensed your doubt, the angel spoke up again. "Yes, but when it's done, the Almighty's going to put up a new thing called a 'rain bow'" He offered with a smile, but all he could muster was a brow raise. "As a promise not to drown everyone again."

You couldn't help but let out a mix of scoff and a grunt. Crawley shared your distaste for the whole idea and mocked it. "How kind."

"You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley. And mh..." He stopped and turned to you inquisitively. He wanted to know your name. The last time you heard out loud was when... You wanted to slap yourself. Come on, you couldn’t be afraid of your own name, now can you ?

"Y/N." You smiled; you were actually happy to introduce yourself. Aziraphale was very nice, and even if he didn't know who you were or what you were, he was treating you with kindness and respect. You weren't sure if you were happy to know that a demon had learned your name. Oh god, what if he told him ?

"Don't fret; I'm sure God got all of this figured out. God's plans are simply:

"Are you going to say 'ineffable'"? Aw, they end each other's sentences. You almost forgot they were bonded. You smiled at the thought before remembering that you were the cause of it and how forbidden it was. You looked slightly red as you rubbed the back of your neck.

And when you thought you couldn't be more flustered, you felt Crawley skip behind you, brush his body against yours, and settle by your side. You were now as red as whatever was the reddest on Earth, and you completely froze up too. He then proceeded to burst your ears by yelling.

"Oi, Shem ! That's unicorn's going to make a run for it." A unicorn was indeed running away from the gathering towards the forest, and you were deeply alert, as you were the one responsible for its bounds. "Oh, it's too late. It's too late !" Crawley howled again.

Tired of his loud voice, you decided to leave and run after the poor creature. "Thank you for everything! Mmh.." You rushed before turning around, not sure how to respond in a non-monotone voice. "Bye bye! Smooches !" Smooches ? Really ?

You heard the angel echoe "smooches ?" as you sprinted away. Even with shoes on, you had terrible coordination and fell a few times before entering the forest, while seemingly hallucinating hearing Aziraphale's voice call you in the distance. Despite trying your best to catch the unicorn in time, you couldn't reach it in time. Instead, rain caught up to you, and you also had to discover how to swim. It wasn't as much fun.

Thankfully, you were able to fly away and find shelter in a cave, cold gnawing at your fingers and feet. And in that moment, you were the loneliest you have ever been. You hugged your knees and stared at your dreadful-looking arm, but you couldn't help but hope the unicorn was safe on the ark.

The minute the level of the water lowered enough for you to search, you didn't waste a second. You roamed for hours, your hair and clothes muddy and wet, tangling around your face and body. A few branches scratch your skin, and pebbles disrupt your messy scout. The sun shone through the branches of the wrenching trees remaining on the land.

That was when you found it. Your breath hitched in your throat, considering the sight in front of you. The water had carried it to the canopy, where the remains of lilac bushes lay still. The long legs of the unicorn lay on the sludge-covered ground. Its beautiful long white mane is all tangled and scattered all across its face, its eyes still open and terrifyingly empty. You didn't even feel your feet move or the tears pouring down your cheeks—just crushing fatigue. It was dead. You were the one who paired it, and now it is gone. God, if you had been faster... Suddenly bursting with adrenaline, you ran and jumped at its side, like you wished you had before it was too late.

You hugged the unicorn's neck as tight as you could, holding on to the vain hope that a heartbeat would be heard. But all you could feel was the wet, cold white coat of the beautiful creature. You couldn't bear to let go; you didn't want to leave it alone. Curled up against its shoulder, you waited. The faint sound of thunder rang through the sky, urging you to look up to that shallow promise that would never make up for anything. Not for the losses, not for the pain. You wish you didn't feel the hurt, but you will be damned if you ever forget the cruelty of that moment.

Footsteps slowly made their way to your miserable form. Your eyes opened on their own, and you looked over to see who interrupted your grieving. And as you thought your heart couldn't be more broken, you let out a desperate cry. Crawley stood there, his golden eyes empty, but his face showed profound sorrow, looking as messed up as you did. A small body draped in a white-drenched sheet was held against his chest. The tightness of his hold reminded you of your own, but the delicacy of his touch made him look so vulnerable. He started walking once again, seeking your eyes, and you felt his misery, adding to your own.

Gently, he rested the small body against the side of the unicorn and patted its head.

"It's not fair." You sobbed, your heart clenching violently, the broken pieces piercing through your lungs.

He kneeled down, seemingly paying his respects like you've seen humans do. "God doesn't exactly do 'fair', if you hadn't noticed."

His red hair hid his face from you, but so did his distress and deep anger. It confused you. Of course you understood how he felt; you just didn't get why. Was it just because it was in his nature to thwart her wishes? But shouldn't he cheer on so many deaths and tragedies? Laugh at pain and suffering, like you have been used to.

"It's just... so cruel, and... I don't..." You couldn't finish the sentence before breaking down in tears. Crawley studied your face, followed the path of your tears, and finally focused on your clenched hands. He inhaled deeply, turned around, sat cross-legged, and gazed up at the sky.

"You might have too much of a sweet heart." In a cheerless joke.

You looked up and saw the majestic bow that adorned the clearing sky among the deadly clouds. It felt like a cynical joke played on you. Mocking you for the naive hope that justice was something God actually cared about.

But... as you peered over the furious demon grieving at your side, you felt less alone and strangely understood. Slowly, your hand went up and down his right arm to soothe his boiling heart, dusting off petals of lilac. He turned around, and you gave him a sad smile.

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33 A.D. Golgotha

It's safe to say you were heavily reprimanded for disappearing like that and letting a unicorn get away, because now, thanks to you, they were all extinct. Great job once again; you kept to yourself. Of course, you didn't mention your encounter to anyone.

And yet they didn't punish you; instead, they put you in charge of their new project, "Jesus." He was an incredible human; he was so full of love and kindness that you suspected they used the essence of the Bound itself. Those thirty-three years were fantastic, and you sure were able to stock up on love. You just wish it didn't have to end so soon.

Now here you were, completely defeated. They always had to do that, didn't they? Someone walked up to you and poked your right arm to get your attention. Surprised, you flinched and turned slowly with wide eyes.

"Oh, Aziraphale." You smiled, happy to see him here, since for some reason he was joyful, despite your circumstances. You had decided to give into your heart, only feeling what other people felt. And also, the filter might be broken; it seemed to work just fine with the guardian angel. He was certainly cheerful to be in the presence of the'son' of God, so it felt nice to feel the same.

Aziraphale smiled in return. "Hello Y/N." He then turned to the scene, and his brows frowned. You couldn't help but stare, like you did in the garden. What about him made you stare? You weren't sure, but you were dead set on noticing all the little details of his expressions. He was so expressive, whether it was through his mouth twitching, teeth gritting, or eyes glittering and squinting. The same goes for his smell; you were sure you could guess everything that was going on inside his head.

"Were you assigned to him ?" The gentle voice whispered, as if not to startle you. You thought about your answer. It wouldn't be logical if only cupids were to care for him, so it wouldn't blow your cover. But why did you want to keep lying so much? You slapped yourself mentally. Because he was a principality, because you showed too much emotion for a heartless being, and because you fricking bound him like a demon! But he was so nice, maybe he wouldn't mind... No.

"Yes, I followed him for most of his life." You smiled quickly but definitely stopped gawking his way. "He is a wonderful person." Tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew his existence was still worth it.

The disturbing sound of cracking bones, the hammer, and Jesus's words brought you back to reality, away from the memories. Why do humans never acknowledge good or beautiful things without having to break them? Love was a tricky concept to them, and they didn't really know when to let things be. Because, come on, he was betrayed by a kiss. They used love and trust as weapons. Humans would rather choose hatred and ignorance if it meant they were right and their pride would remain intact.

"Yes, humans can be dreadful creatures. sometimes." The angel nodded. You looked up, flustered. Being used to having yourself as your only companion made you forget to close your mouth and not get lost in your  reflection."

You flinched when he screamed, and you averted your eyes to the ground. A long black robe came into your view. Climbing up from the dry soil to the eyes of the newcomer, you smelled the spice of the naga viper. Crawley was indeed quite angry, alright ?

"Hi Crawley." You greeted me while taking a step closer to Aziraphale, away from the smell.

He acknowledged your presence with a smile and a nod, and you felt the angel stare behind you. You turned around to identify the emotion slithering from Aziraphale, but it was already gone. Still, he was fidgeting with his fingers and slowly backing away.

"Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you ?" The demon inquired of Azirphale.

"Smirk ? Me ?"

"Well, your lot put him on there." He shrugged.

"What ?" Your incredulous voice resounded louder than you thought. "I thought it was the hate demons." You grasped Aziraphale's sleeve for support, and you fixed him. And he didn't pull away.

"Well, it was, but we, in a sense, let them put him there." He tried to explain the best he could while preserving Heaven's integrity. "And I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley. Otherwise, it would have been a more merciful death." He finally assured you, and you let go, unsure and overall confused.

"Oh, I've changed it."

The two of you turned to Crawley. "Changed what ?" You asked.

"My name. ' Crawl-y' just wasn't really doing it for me. It's a bit too... squirming-at-your-feet-ish." You chuckled at his explanation.

"Well, you were a snake." Aziraphale smirked, and his brow ticked in a teasing manner.

He was? You gulped and bit your lower lip. Thoughts came in a whirlwind into your mind, and you certainly weren't listening to anything they were saying. God, how many mistakes have you committed? The unicorn, the forbidden bound, and letting the snake tempt Adam and Eve into eating the apple. You were a complete catastrophe.

"Did you ever meet him ?" You heard Aziraphale ask.

The step you tried to take back was stopped by confusion. They were supposed to be linked, and when that happens, the people involved spend a lot of time together, as one would expect. So logically, they would at least know if the other had met someone as important as Jesus. What if... You visualised the surrounding bounds, the complete, yet-to-be finalized and the multitude of possibilities. You darted down to observe the bound of the two and realised you were standing in the middle of it. And to add to your feeling of failure, you realised the bound was anything but completed.

You can't even get that right; you mocked yourself. Laughter and tears wanted to escape your throat. Maybe it was for the better, but still, you couldn't bear to be the reason two people couldn't be together, especially not with such a beautiful bond. Perphas, you could try to shoot them one last time. You considered the thought for a moment and slowly decided against it. That was until you heard Jesus cry in pain once again.

"Oh, that has got to hurt." Crawl—no, Crowley hissed. You sniffed, but a small smile settled on your lips. The sound alerted the angel that spined to see you.

"He'll be alright, dear." He reassured me while tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.

"For sure. Like I said, he's a bright man who wouldn't even hurt a fly; he'll go right up there." Crowley assured me too, gazing up at the sky.

You scratched your arm and hummed in response. Jesus was being horribly tortured for the ideal that love was the best thing life had to offer, and he priotized beyond anything else. The feeling was mutual; you wanted to live by that, if only your peers didn't make it sound so out of place. But you thought the least you could do to honour your philanthropic companion was to respect his beliefs.

"I'll be heading home... I'm heading to heaven. Gotta prepare for his arrival." Your eyes were lost staring at some rock on the ground before retreating away and weaving. "Bye, bye."

"You're sure-" Aziraphale tried, but you were already gone, middling in the crowd where you belonged. A faceless stranger that no one recognised. You turned your blindness spell on and flew up in the sky. You glanced down on the pair and laughed to yourself while aiming. Hopefully you wouldn't have to shoot them again, but come on: how many more arrows would this bound need ?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

41 A.D. Rome

Your invisible form was flying through the streets of Rome at a daring speed. Footsteps running on stone pavers and clothing rubbing against the rough surfaces of the city walls rang in the air. The giggles of the youthful couple were mixing with your own as you twirled around in pure delight. Oh, the sheer happiness of being young and deeply believing that their first love story would last forever.

It might be surprising to hear for some, but cupids were not shooting at every couple. It is your principal job, but most importantly, you were supposed to make sure the world's boundaries were constantly supplied with love. Of course, bounds were the most secure way of ensuring it; not every love story was meant to last forever. And young love is one of the most powerful types, beside unconditional love, as it is filled with hope and innocence.

The young man suddenly grabbed his lover's hand and pulled him into a small, secluded alley. You clapped your hands and soared up in the sky to land on the rooftop of a house. You crawled your way to the hedge of it and gawked down on them with a wide smile. The smaller boy was backed against the wall while his partner was smothering him with kisses on her nose, cheeks, and throat. His arms were passed around his neck as he hugged him lovingly. You supported your head with your hands settled against your cheeks.

The taller boy separated himself from his neck, and he used this opportunity to kiss him passionately. A huge wave of love came rushing up to you, and you inhaled it with vigour, both with your nose and mouth. It raised you on your knees and made you fall down on your back. You basked in the reinvigorating feeling and strung out profusely. The cold stone made the exposed skin of your legs shudder, but the warmth you felt in your heart surpassed any other sensations. It filled your stomach, and you were completely sated.

You hummed deliciously and observed the sky. Now, you were thirsty and still riled up from the emotion, and as always, you didn't know how to manage the thrills coursing through your system. As you came to understand, humans had different ways of dealing with such stirs. The more your body experienced, the more you contemplated your options; you just didn't have the guts to try. Whether it was food, sleep, or sex, You didn't know why; you just had that urge to be human.

Of course, it was absolutely inconceivable for your fellow angels and certainly for the demons too, if you were honest. It was just a different side of yourself that you started to discover. As strange as it is to say, acknowledging to yourself that you made terrible mistakes on Earth made you feel wonderfully uninhibited. You just lack the courage and actual safety to try.

Being unable to talk to anyone about it made you feel so insecure and scared. What if something went wrong ? What if your gifted body wasn't made to experiment anything 'humanly'? Oh Jesus, what if you exploded?! Yes, you had an inexplicable fear of exploding, and you had no idea where it came from. You just needed someone to... Well, actually, you just needed someone.

You rolled to your side and listed all the endeavours you wanted to throw yourself into when you felt an oddly familiar presence. You were alone most of the time; no one was really 'homey' in your heart. So, you kept rolling towards the busiest street, forsaking the lovey-dovey couple. It was a restaurant, and a busy one at that. Still, you managed to spot a red-headed man with much shorter hair than you remembered.

You looked down at your hands, still doubting the choice you made eight years ago. To appease your mind, you slipped down and called off the spell. Maybe they were on a date. Did they eat food ? Yes, you had your priorities neatly organised.

You peeked the upper part of your head through the door frame and found Crowley sitting alone on a stool. Scanning around the restaurant, you were met with the queer sight of Aziraphale playing on his own. Well, maybe it was a tradition of theirs...

"What have you got? Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable." He leisured. It peaked your interest, but you didn't initiate any movements. You watched intently when you saw Aziraphale get up from his seat and go up to the demon.

"Crawley- Crowley ? Well, fancy running into you here." Damn, they are definitely the least communicative couple you have ever encountered! Certainly, a bound like that would make it so much harder for them to be apart. You flashed your eyes pink, and that was when you summoned your vision. And you felt like screaming. Their link was still incomplete !

"Y/N ? Golly, it's quite a reunion." Aziraphale chuckled, clapping his hands. He gestured for you to come to the counter too. Unsure, you tiptoed your way towards them. Your mouth opened slightly when you saw the two drinks lying there.

Aziraphale followed your eyes and chirped. "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a drink too, dear ?"

You blushed and started playing with your fingers. "I never consumed anything from Earth." The stutters you let out doubled the intensity of your embarrassment.

"Anything ?" Crowley insinuated, even though you didn't catch what he meant. The angel did, though, and tsked in a reprimanding tone.

"Still a demon, then?" He gave him a side eye.

The redhead snarked in response. "What kind of stupid question is that,'still a demon?' What else am I going to be, an aardvark?" The angel didn't listen, however, and ordered a drink for you.

You looked down, feeling like you were overstepping a private discussion. Sheesh, your shot has been totally useless, heh? You were really good for nothing, cupid, now were you? "It's really nice of you, but..."

"Here you go, apple and pear juice." The bartender served you right before you could slip away. You eyed the goblet and sniffed the sweet smell of appel and pear, the scent of endermant.

"Don't worry, the taste is way sweeter than house brown; it'll be easier for a first try." His round hand was handing you the drink, and you gently grabbed it, brushing your fingers against his. Bubbles were twirling in your stomach at his consideration.

"Thanks." You mumbled. Crowley huffed with a smirk. When you met his gaze shyly, he winked and grabbed his own cup. A gentle and warm sensation envelopped your body, and you held your cup closer to yourself.

"Salutaria." Aziraphale cheered and went to clank both of your goblets. You and Crowley met him in the hallway, and the vibrations caused your skin to create goosebumps. You enjoyed the feeling, especially when you ran your fingers alongside the texture, like you were doing unconsciously on your right arm. Freezing mid-thought, you rushed to see that your heavily scarred forearm was exposed for anyone to see.

Hiding it in such a hurry caused the pair to study you. You forced out a laugh and raised your glass again. "Heh, a moment of hesitation." You said this before bringing the cup to your lips. In the corner of your sight, you saw the angel moisten his lips.

"So, why are you in Rome for?" Crowley wondered, not caring at all for your discovery, as he finished his drink. You hummed in delight; your taste buds felt like exploding. You darted your tongue out and rolled it around the bit of honeyed pear that couldn't quite enter your mouth. Crowley gulped audibly, as he apparently didn't finish his bevarage as you thought he did.

"Mmh... I thought I'd try Petronius' new restaurant." Adding to the fruity liquid, a heavy wave of macarons and rosé made its way to your nose. You laughed breathlessly, and you were brought back to the conversation. "I hear it does remarkable things to oysters."

"I've never eaten an oyster." Crowley confessed. Do people eat rocks? You tilted your head, confused.

"Oh, well, let me tempt you to..." Aziraphale started, making you gasp.

You weren't the only one spurred up by the vocabulary of the angel; Crowley suddenly turned around to meet his gaze. That is when you noticed he covered his eyes. Despite this, Crowley still looked somewhat exasperated for some reason but was giving hints of macarons as well. Perphas, they were so flustered because you caught them on their date.

"No, that's—that's your job, isn't it?" His expression was tight, laughing through his teeth, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you.

To make sure you weren't the problem, you tried to suggest you join them on their little trip. "I might try an oyster."

He sputtered, realising the mistake he had made. "Oh God... Mh, the taste might be a bit too rich for you." You licked your lips, chasing the saccharine flavour. Crowley looked etched and suggested something out of sympathy.

"They'll be simpler food..."

You put the goblet down and backed. "Don't mind me, I'll see myself out; I still have some, huh, miracles to do!" It was a lie, of course; your lot didn't perform miracles on a daily basis, but you didn't think much of it. Oddly enough, lying didn't bother you that much.

You were so ashamed. You didn't understand why your bow didn't work. Some couples weren't easy to finalise, but you had already shot them twice. Plus, their bound wasn't strained or weak; it wasn't a technical mistake. So why ? "Have fun." You hoped your smile would encourage them to dine together, in spite of your interruption.

"Y/N-" The crowd already covered your body, while you wasted no time scampering away. The moment you were out of breath, you had arrived at the market. Inhaling deeply, you straightened yourself up, trying to sort out your thoughts. Obviously, something was wrong, whether it had to do with you or with them. If it failed not only once but twice, it's because it wasn't meant to be at all. Continuing would be pointless; you had to give them up. You had to.

Why, in the name of love, could you not make up your mind around the idea? Why couldn't you shake off the feeling of excitement you felt when those two were together? Certainly, a bound that would send such love could not be a miscalculation. They made you feel so good, and the theory of your possible addiction is becoming much more plausible now. But you refused to get addicted to them. You had to leave them; if they were meant to end up together, they would eventually do it on their own.

"Would you like to try an oyster, dear customer ?" A merchant interpellated you, since you had stopped only a few steps away. You observed the display of rocks and took a curious look at the seller.

"How do you eat them?" You asked.

"It's easy; come see." He called you over. First, he held the head in a firm grip and brought a knife to the tail of the pebble. He then twisted the knife around and finally slipped it inside. You raised one brow at your own dirty mind and looked away. Finally, as you didn't watch the rest of the show, he levelled the now-open rock to your face. "And you eat what's inside."

You studied the bogger-like thing and sluppered the whole thing, afraid of the taste. And surprising enough, you loved the taste of it, even if the viscous consistency made it hard for you to properly touch it with your tongue. You wondered what it would have been like if you went with Aziraphale and Crowley.

Jesus, you wanted to slap yourself. Stop thinking about them; you couldn't break your new resolution so quickly. And still, the thoughts kept rushing in! How caring the angel had been when he offered you a gentler beverage. The strange device that rested on Crowley's nose, which hid his pretty yellow eyes, The visible fluffiness of Aziraphale's whole being. Or the sweet gesture Crowley had for you, even though you had imposed yourself between him and the white-haired man.

Ok, you are ceasing at all, Y/N; this is ridiculous. You just had to be a burden, now don't you? All of a sudden, a hand tapped on your shoulder, but you were too irritated to answer politely.

"What ?" You snapped and shook the hand right off your shoulder.

And you turned around. You were sadly met with a slack-jawed Mihael, a colleague and former friend of yours, before the war. She was walking—well, you thought she did—but she still floated a few inches above the ground. Her dark pink eyes scanned your face, your fully expressive face, and trailed down to where you lay. She saw you eating, walking, and feeling. Oh God, she saw you snap, broodi, and enjoy. Worst of all, she was, out of all the cupids, the most documented about your situation. Mihael knew. It made her terribly dangerous.

"Please..." You pleaded, reaching out to her, but it only made it worse. She pranced as if she had been burned by your aching hands. Wors couldn't align together.

"Mihael, wait !" You ran after her, but she had already taken off and activated her blindness spell. "No, for heaven's sake !" You then tried to scream your disapproval out of your heart. Running away was the first thing that popped into your mind. Maybe go to the bottom of the abyss to properly cool down. That's how Mihael would come back, or if you were summoned, you'd be perfectly capable of faking your emptiness.

You sighed and detected the scent of desire. It was a brothel—a fancy one. You contemplated the idea of entering and finally deciding to indulge in your sinful interests. Hey, you were about to spend a fair amount of time away from all civilization, not even having light as your company. It would just be another line you'd cross, but you stopped counting the moment you bound an angel and a demon together.Oh God, could you just stop thinking about it? Ugh...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1354, Balkan merchant caravan, Greece

"We can't just keep every infant we find, Y/N. She's not our kin." Elif lectured you severely. Who was Elif, you may ask? He's the head of the merchant group you've been following for a couple of months. You had met him and his wife a few years ago, for obvious reasons, and now you travel with them in the hope of providing the parental love the two craved.

However, they were never able to conceive. So when you found this little baby girl, you knew she needed them as much as they needed her. Convincing Nazli was easy, Elif—eh, not so much. He wouldn't have an unknown baby as his child.

"We will give her to the next village with a stop-by, and that's final." He gave you a stern look and walked away to the group of men gathering around the fire.

It would have been easy to use an emotional orb to persuade him to keep her, but you knew their link would be hollow and fake; it would never last. You sighed and caressed the chubby face wrapped in a tight blanket, nested in the woman's arms. Her eyes pleaded your way, and you sent her a wave of reassurance.

"I'll take care of it, love. Don't worry." You smiled. You jumped out of the caravan and stretched your arms and back. The night sky was truly a beauty. On the day of your creation, though it's all a blur, you remember that it was also the same day all the stars were brought into existence. It was incredible, a majestic moment you wished you could recall more clearly, but your mind was funny like that.

You sighed, the memories of your last meeting with Mihael coming back to the surface, as you did four hundred years after you spent sleeping in the ocean. Honestly, you didn't mean to sleep; it was just all so peaceful, you couldn't help it. She hadn't said anything to Jophiel or Chamuel, not even her own linked! You were so thankful for that. Adriel was a real pain in the ass.

She came to you, more worried than anything else. I apologise until your ears bleed; you still didn't show the full spectrum of your emotions. You didn't trust her. All Mihael did was warn you, advise you to show minimal emotion, and keep better track of your environment.

Following her recommendation, you strayed from your kindness while still providing enough love so they would let you be. Through all your experiences, the distance between you and your peers grew larger, and even if you shared your emotional capacity, you knew you were a freak. It was all too strong. You felt alone in your emotions. Alone in the world. Under the vast canopy of the night sky, with stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope, you stood alone in the deserted land, your heart heavy with a profound sense of isolation. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance as she gazed up at the infinite expanse above, feeling small and insignificant against the backdrop of the cosmos.

As you traced the patterns of constellations with your weary eyes, a wave of emptiness washed over you, engulfing you in a sea of solitude. Each glittering star seemed to mock you with its unreachable brilliance, a reminder of the vast distances that separated you from the rest of your kind. The soft breeze brushed your hair, bringing along a particular smell. Images of a certain red-haided demon flashed through your mind. A gasp fell out of your lips, and your heart swelled, beating wildly. You searched franticly, bouncing on your toes.

The moment you spot him, you want to rush and greet him, but his posture and behaviour stop you. Crowley is standing next to a caravan, seemingly hiding behind it. Confused, you take baby steps towards him and wait. Once you arrive near him, you get to see what he was watching.

Thieves and barbarians were steathly making their way down the hilltop to the merchants. They were barely visible to the eye; the bright glow of the campfire seemed to warn the good people, but no one seemed to notice. You bit down on your lip when you realised it was certainly your friend's work. Friend ? You meant the client. The anger you felt wasn't directed at him, and it surprised you.

Well, no, what surprised you the most was his next action. While you thought Crowley was here to supervise everything that went smoothly, he instead did something unexpected. He straightened up, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers. You frowned, completely lost. Now, you were standing right behind him, peeking to see the scene unfold.

A huge piece of marchandise rolled out of a cart, one facing the approaching criminals. Elif, who had been conversing with his men, snapped his eyes at the bag before scanning the area around it. Including the bushy hill. The man spotted the group and alerted the others to get ready to fight or hide. You gasped and glanced over Nazli and the baby, but they were far enough away and well hidden.

Your eyes soften at the realisation of what Crowley just did. He also seemed quite satisfied with his actions, and you knew he was congratulating himself. Yeah, you smelled the mix of whipped cream and blueberries. A smug smirk appeared on your face, and you decided to scare him just a bit.

"How much has changed since I left?" You spoke up playfully, making sure to be as sudden as possible. And your wish was answered when Crowley spun around violently, screaming and bolting away from you.

You laughed despite yourself, but the demon was too stunned to really care. "Y/N ?! You scared the hell out of me!" He crowed.

"It seems like you didn't need my help for that." You accused me teasingly, a brow raised.

His widened eyes finally shrank down, and he gulped. "It's not what it looks like." His voice sounded almost pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Crowley, it's okay. I ain't going to denounce you." You took a step forward and tilted your head. "But I will ask you questions." The struggles of battle could be heard, with the thieves charging at the campers.

He groaned and ran a hand in his hair. It grew longer since the last time, probably multiple times since it had been centuries since you two encountered each other. It seemed to be tied into a low ponytail, and his clothes were still as black as the night, in comparison to yours, which were always colourful.

"So... why are you doing the angels work ?"

He sighed and took some time to respond, allowing the gooshing sound of blood hitting the ground to fill the air. "I guess I could tell you..." Crowley took off his glasses and searched into your eyes. In return, you offered him an encouraging smile.

"Me and Aziraphale made an arrangement... We stay out of each other's way and help when we can." He crossed his arm against his chest, leaning again against the caravan.

"Seem simple enough..." You shrugged before frowning. "Don't... don't Heaven and Hell suspect anything ?" Your voice reflects your concern.

A dagger was thrown your way. Crowley grabbed onto your sleeve and pulled you out of its trajectory, next to him. "Nah, they never suspect anything; you know how they are." He tried to act casual, but you did smell relieved that you didn't freak out.

You hummed and chuckled. "Yeah.." A kind of comfortable relationship settled between the two of you, but you couldn't shake the awakening remaining. Leaving abruptly and disaperating for centuries will do that for you.

"Where have you been ?" The redhead inquired.

You inhaled deeply before answering. "I visited the abyss for a while, and... I kind of fell asleep."

Crowley's impressed smile echoed your embarrassed one when he turned toward you. "You fell asleep ?" He nagged with a chuckle. "For how long ?"

"For about four centuries..." You rubbed the back of your head. The air abruptly carried the piercing cries of the infant, grabbing your attention and sending them right back to your clients. You gasped sharply and held your breath. Two barbarians were sprinting towards the poor woman and the baby. Nazli did her best at keeping them at bay, swinging her sabre around and cutting them off enough to prevent them from getting closer. But their patience was running thin.

"Nazli !" Alerted by gut-wrenching cries, Elif called out to his wife, his eyes widening with terror. But he had no time to think; no, he rushed into action. The chief slashed his way to his love, not stopping for anything. Not even the cart right in front of him, where you and Crowley were currently leaning against.

"Wow." The two of you mused in chorus as the chief jumped right over your heads and landed right behind the two men. He brought his long, curvy dagger to the first's throat and slit it wide open. The cries of the baby kept ranging through the air as you watched in awe and slight disgust as the crimson liquid poured down in a thick puddle on the soil.

"Ew." You murmured, earning a scoff from Crowley, who observed the scene with arms crossed over his chest. The other thief punched Elif in the face, but he couldn't care less. He spit out a mixture of blood and saliva and then plunged his dagger into the attacker's chest with all the rage he could muster.

"Mh, talk about killing for love." Crowley commented. But didn't answer. Instead, you looked at the scene tenderly. Elif helped his wife get out of the caravan, putting his hands around her and the baby. That's when the infant instinctively grabbed onto the man's finger. By the way his breath caught in his throat, you knew it pulled right at his heartstrings. You couldn't help but smile like a complete goof.

After what felt like hours, the marchants finally won their battle. Now was the time to mend wounds and sooth souls. Crowley stayed with you the entire night, giving you two hours to catch up. And despite how much you struggled to admit it, you did enjoy spending time with him. Not because he was a dreadful company, quite the opposite. But you knew you had to keep your distance.

Right now, you sat next to each other, watching the spouses cuddle the baby. In the soft glow of the rising dawn, Elif and Nazli sat side by side next to the fire, their hands clasped together in a silent gesture of love and solidarity. The room was bathed in the warm hues of sunrise, casting a soft, golden light upon their faces.

"Nazli." Her husband began, his voice filled with emotion, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said... Maybe we should take her in."

Nazli's eyes lit up with delight, her heart swelling with gratitude for the man she loved more than words could express. You swore in that instead, as you smelt the intoxicating scent of love, you could sink back into the deep abyss and leave solely on the memory of their love.

"Oh, Elif.." She exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you really mean it ?"

Elif nodded, a smile spreading across his face as he reached out to gently caress his wife's cheek. "Yes." He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I mean it with all my heart. I want nothing more than to offer you the family you always wanted." His hand caressed the small baby's hair. "Offer her the family she needs. Little Qamirah." He smiled foundly.

Tears of joy welled in Nazli's eyes as she threw her right arm around her husband, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Thank you, my love," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. You smiled tenderly and glanced towards Crowley, your hand gesturing to the couple. He smiled softly and rolled his eyes in anoyance, but you knew how he truly felt.

You retreated from the wholesome, resting your head back against the wooden cart. "Maybe this deal isn't such a bad idea after all."

Crowley mirrored your chuckle. "I guess you could be added to the contract." He jested teasingly.

You gasped happily and smiled. "Really ?"

"Sure, but it'd be best if you stayed on the surface of Earth for that." He nudged your elbow with his own.

"Don't worry." You streched your back and raised your covered arms high in the sky.

Crowley frowned as he took notice of the clothing. "Afraid you'll get a tan?" He teased.

You bit your lip and caressed your right arm. "Nah, more like a fashion choice." You winked. Crowley laughed hoarsely and then streched up his arm. You watched softly as he got up and dusted himself off.

"I'd love to stay, but I got some reel demonic work to do." He waved off and had already started to walk away. In a matter of seconds, you got up and followed after him. Somehow, you didn't want to let him leave, at least not this way.

"Wait !" You called, and Crowley stopped midstep.

"What ?" He turned softly.

Instead of answering, you sprinted towards your caravan and grabbed a plant you had snatched when you went to the other side of Earth and spent time with the Tupi-Guarani ivilization. They have wonderful, complex social structures, rich oral traditions, and extensive knowledge of the natural world. Ah, what a wonderful vacation !

You pulled out the plant; they called it the flower of the moon. It was a stunning plant, prized for its graceful, glossy foliage and elegant white flowers. With its lush, dark green leaves that arch gracefully from the base, the moon flower produces delicate, white flowers with a central spadix surrounded by a white, petal-like spathe. "There you go!" You handed it to him with a bright smile.

Crowley observed this little beauty of nature before looking up at you with an unimpressed expression. "A plant ?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not just a plant, a moon flower. But it's so great to have one of those! You never really feel alone."

His bright yellow eyes stared into your own before he smirked. "It was time for you to emmerge, sweetheart." He nagged.

You pouted and nudged his arm. "Shush. Take the plant, a gift for everything you taught me." He groaned and took it anyway.

"Just so you know, if it dies, it's not my fault." His warning made you chuckle.

"I'll keep that in mind." You winked. "Thank you for your help." He simply nodded as a goodbye before disappearing from thin air.

As you stood there, you felt loneliness crawling its way back onto your shoulders. All the while you stayed with the demon, you never once felt alone. And more than that, you truly experience true understanding, and it was so refreshing... The irony of the situation was truly oddly amusing to you. You didn't trust another cupid, one of your kind, to display every emotion you could have. But it felt so natural to do so with a guardian angel and a demon. Swallowing with difficulty, you observed the newly founded family and felt something echo deep into your soul.

You laughed—a mixture of disbelief and strange relief. Not only were you one of a kind, but you also found out that you weren't alone in this. Yep, maybe you could indulge yourself in their company... Just a tinsy bit...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1793, La Bastille, Paris

"Rattrapes la, bon sang!" You yelled at the young woman, hoping she would finally decide to run after her friend.

"Non, Y/N." She dismissed her sternly, though the tears threatened to leave her eyes. "Elle a fait son choix; c'est son problème." Turning away from you, she hid her feelings for her friend from you. At least she tried.

You groaned and added exasperation. "Elle a juste eu peur, Lucie. Robespierre est en train de couper des têtes à la volée; c'est tout à fait normal!" Lucie's 'roomate' Madeleine had joined her during the revolution, but the more the franzy took over, the more scared she became. People began beheading anyone who was against the Republic ideology, which included severing the heads of nicely dressed people.

Obviously, an argument ensued, and Madeleine decided to run away from Paris all together, to be safe from all the madness. Lucie wanted to stay, to continue the fight, but you knew she loved her more than anything. And here you were stuck between the two, trying desperately to smooth things over and reunite them. Which was insanely difficult.

"Alors quoi, tu vas la laisser partir? Ne plus jamais la revoir?" You tried to reason with her.

"Absolument !" She exclaimed and threw her hands in the air, acting like a spoiled brat. All of this was still too fresh. Lucie was immensly offended and hurt by her lover's words; there was no way to calm her down right this moment.

So you sighed and ruffled your hair. "D'accord, si c'est ce que tu veux..." Softly, you turned away from her. "Mais n'oublies pas qu'elle ne part que demain matin... agis avant que tu le regrettes." You threw her one last glance towards her, giving her time to pound.

As you made your way towards the square, you saw a couple young men tearing out pavers from the street and children gathering wood for their home. The city streets bustled with the fervour of revolution, while you kept seeking solace amidst the chaos that engulfed the lovely city. The distant echoes of revolutionary chants mingled with the clatter of horse-drawn carriages and the murmur of lively conversations, creating a symphony of sound that enveloped you in a cocoon of anonymity.

With each step you took, you felt the echo of Lucie's convictions pressing down on your stomach—the burden of long, agonising memories hanging over your heart, ready to come crashing down any second. The events of the day had left you shaken and unsettled, your mind swirling with thoughts of rebellion and resistance that once again didn't originate from you.

As you kept walking, you found yourself drawn towards the quieter corners of the city, away from the tumultuous crowds and swirling currents of political intrigue. Picking up a small yarrow, you softly palyed with it in between your fingers. As you wandered through narrow alleyways adorned with quaint cafes and bustling market stalls, your sensitive nose smelled of Parisian life and emotions.

With each passing moment, the rhythm of your footsteps became a mantra, a soothing cadence that calmed your racing thoughts and grounded her in the present moment. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you rolled up your sleeves, enjoying the relaxing wind on your scarred arm. The scent of freshly baked bread and aromatic spices was a comforting reminder of the simple pleasures that still existed amidst the turmoil of the revolution.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the beauty of your surroundings, finding solace in the timeless elegance of Parisian architecture and the soft glow of gas lamps that illuminated the streets like beacons of hope in the darkness. You brought the small white flower up to your nose and inhaled its scent deeply.

And as you flew up to a moonlight-bathed rooftop, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to bask in the stillness of the sky. Reajusting your red béret on your head correctly, your eyes suddenly snapped down to two guards guiding an overly dressed and white figure away towards the Place de la Révolution, where the crowd was gathered around the guillotine.

And you knew who he was, for sure. "Oh God, Aziraphale..." You sighed and shook your head. The angel had quite particular taste in clothing, so it wasn't really a surprise when you spot him parade in Paris with such expensive clothes. Yeah, he always had a way to miss social clues. So, you flew back, saying farewell to your newly found peace, and followed them from a safe distance.

For your part, you dressed as the typical revolutionary Parisian, while slightly more colourful, so you had no trouble sneaking inside the prison, dodging the aristocrats being taken away by the very clear slashing sounds and screams coming from the lace. You kept searching among the moist cobblestones until you heard Aziraphale's gentle voice.

"Look, this is all a terrible mistake." He assured me while you slowly peeked your head from behind the cold stone wall. "I don't think you understand."

"I have good news for you. You are the 999th aristocrat to die at the guillotine by my hand." The man affirmed himself cheerfully, like a proud collector. "But the first English." You rolled your eyes at the statement, still waiting for the right moment to interfere. Why did Aziraphale not consider using a miracle? Why risk discorporation, especially such a painful one ?

"Now..." The man started before you heard him move around.

Before you understood what he was doing, Aziraphale got up, his chains clanking on the ground. "Please ! No."

You frowned, anger bubbling in your stomach and your teeth gritting. No way I'm letting him hurt Aziraphale... A rush of adrenaline washed over you, but just before you could intervene, a voice spoke from behind you.

"How about we help our little friend, mh ?"

A loud, high-pitched yelp escaped from your throat, and you turned violently around. Crowley was looking at you through his sunglasses and mocking a smurk on his lips. You let out the breath you kept in your lungs and growled.

"Don't do that." You scowled.

He shrugged and leaned over the prison cell. "It's just payback, sweetheart." He mumbled in a low voice and snapped his fingers, causing your brow to raise.

"Animals." The angel grumbled, deeply reproachful. You smiled and pushed the cell door open.

"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines, angel." Crowley said before sitting down nonchalantly.

"I'm afraid only humans do that." You added, standing with your hands behind your back.

"You..." Aziraphale sighed, and you smelled utter relief emitting from him. "Good Lord..." He smiled, rolling his eyes. You close up to him and gently remove the chains from his wrists. Your eyes trailed on his clothes, and you scoffed. Long white coat, richly decorated vest, obviously tailored pants, gee... The only thing you missed was the way your friend looked down at your hands, his breathing picking up slightly.

"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille?" Crowley inquired from his corner. "I thought you were opening a book shop."

"In London, nontheless." You finally got rid of the metal and let it fall loudly to the ground. Stepping away from him, the angel had space to take a deep breath and explain himself.

"Well, I was. I got peckish." He pouted, rubbing his bruising wrists.

Crowley smirked. "Peckish ?"

Aziraphale couldn't meet your gaze as you tasted funnel cake in the air. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if you must know, it was the crêpes." You chuckled in response.

"Crêpes ? Don't they make 'em in England?"

"Not as good as the ones you find in Paris, that's for sure. Oh, and the brioche." He assured me, filled with conviction. You shook your head and kept laughing.

"So you just popped across the channel during a revolution because you wanted something to nibble?" The demon almost, ironically, lectured.

You shrugged. "Meh, I could understand. But not dressed like that, Azy." A smirk took place on your face.

He eyed you two up and down and then stated: "I have standards." In all your responses, you stuck out your tongue. "I did hear they were getting a bit carried away over here, but..."

"Yeah, this is not getting carried away. This is cutting off lots of people's heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine." The red head pointed out his slight resentment.

You nodded in agreement, but tried to bring up the positive. "At least, they are quite creative." But all you earned in return were jaded looks from your two clients. You raised up your hands to plead your innocence. "But, why didn't you miracle your way out?"

An effective way to change the subject. Aziraphale looked down once again. "Oh, I was reprimanded last month." You glanced towards Crowley, and you shared a knowing look. "They said I'd performed too many frivolous miracles. I got a strongly worded note from Gabriel."

Your lips twitched in a contrite pout. Only imagining what Chamuel would do if you ever got reported didn't settle quite with you, and the last thing you wanted was to bring to yourself. In a way, you were envious of how Aziraphale had even the chance to make a mistake.

Crowley stood up and strolled towards you. "Well, you're lucky I was in the area."

"We." You wasted no time correcting him.

Aziraphale scoffed. "I suppose I am." A soft smile appeared on his face, and the faintest blush appeared as he gawked at the two of you. "Why are you here?" He frowned.

"My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance." The demon answered first, waving off his own statement.

Aziraphale gasped and got agitated again. "So all this is your demonic work?" He gestured towards the raging crowd.

"No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me." Now it was Crowley's turn to clear his name. So, there is a chance for you to restore your image.

"Heh, I told you, creative." You chirped proudly. But the same silence welcomed your words. You sighed, and your shoulders fell. "Fine..."

"Well..." Azirphale talked up again after a few seconds of judging silence. "I suppose I should say thank you for the, uh, rescue." He swung his arms from either side of his body softly.

"Don't say that." Crowley suddenly surged forward and snarled, startling you slightly. "If my people hear I join forces with an angel to save another, I'll be the one in trouble."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, already starting to walk away. Over the centuries, you learned to leave these two whenever they started to have a moment. "And my lot, do not send rude notes." Crowley's voice was fading and was replaced by your own footsteps.

"Well, anyway, I'm very grateful. What about if I buy you lunch?" Aziraphale offered. You stopped in the middle of the hallway and, at a turn, smiled, melancolic, before foresaking their conversation. Even though it didn't stop there.

"What do you think, Y/N?" The red head stopped mid-sentence as he noticed you were gone. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do they always do?"

Once again, you didn't join them for lunch. Why would you? They were just clients. You repeated this to yourself all the time, hoping one day it would finally make its way to your brain. But this desire never went away, despite how many times you echoed your words over and over again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the slowing city, you stepped out of a restaurant, crêpe in hand. Obviously, to avoid any unwanted attention, you made sure to pass by Lucie and, thank you enough, Madeleine. Quietly munching on your treat, you observed their bodies finally coming together. The tension that had lingered between them for so long seemed to melt away in the fading light, replaced by a tentative sense of reconciliation. They were a few feet away from each other, but still Lucie reached out tentatively, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the blonde's cheek, her eyes filled with regret and longing.

"Je suis désolée, Madeleine." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of leaves. "Je n'ai jamais voulu te faire de mal." Tears softly formed in her eyes. "Je t'aime plus de tout au monde." She confessed, her voice breaking under the emotion.

Madeleine's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she reached out to clasp her lover's hand in her own, the relieving scent of forgiveness filling the air. "Je t'aime aussi, Lucie." She replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "J'ai juste eu tellement peur... tout ce qui passe en ce moment..." Her breath quickened once again through her fear.

"Je sais, je sais, et je m'en excuses. Mais je te promets qu'il ne t'arrivera jamais rien, jamais." She assured, so determined with the firm intention to protect Madeleine until her last breath.

And in that moment, as they sat together beneath the canopy of clouds, you felt a pang of longing tug at your heartstrings, a silent reminder of the feelings you had buried deep within your soul. It wasn't the first time you felt envious, but you would never let those feelings settle in your heart. The choice you made so many centuries ago will never change. However, as you watched from the sidelines, you were unable to recognise the truth that lay dormant within your own soul.

Lucie and Madeleine embraced, their love rekindled amidst the fragrant blooms and gentle whispers of the night, as they finally found solace in each other's arms. "Ça ira mon amour..." Lucie hugged Madeleine tightly against her chest as she continued to sob her relief and fear. "Ça ira pour toujours."

Yeah, it will be okay. You bit off a bit of your crêpe, the mixture of the taste of love and your little snack warming up your belly in the best way. You got up and stretched out your arm, bow in hand. And while you shot the two of them, you kept hoping that one day you would be at peace with your choice.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

1811, Windsor Caslte, London

The grand ballroom shimmered under the warm glow of candlelight, its walls adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded accents. As the musicians tuned their instruments, the air buzzed with anticipation. Ladies draped in silk and lace, gentlemen adorned in tailored coats, assembled in a choreographed display of social refinement. As the orchestra struck the first notes, couples gracefully glided across the polished floor, engaged in the intricate steps of the minuet. The scent of perfumed wigs mingled with the delicate fragrance of flowers scattered throughout the hall. Servants discreetly circulated, offering glasses of fine wine to the elegantly attired guests. You swiftly grasped a glass and nodded to the young woman, thankfully.

Amidst the rhythmic rustle of silk and the subdued murmur of conversations, the atmosphere exuded a sense of sophistication and regality. The ball at the court of George III unfolded as a spectacle of grace, where every movement and gesture spoke the language of grace and societal hierarchy. You strolled among the crowd to fade into the background while observing two enemies dancing together. The line between love and hate was so thin. You couldn't help but feel drawn to them, despising the risk of facing a hate demon. She was sent to kill him, a duke, but they've been dancing for hours now. The tension was there—the ballroom, the dancing—if you wanted to, you could just send a wave of temerity, and the deal would be sealed!

I continued to stroll in a circle around the couple, listening to the music softly. You enjoyed the sweet melodies and the frail details of each note; it made your heart react differently to every song. You hummed the languishing melody as you closed up to the buffet, where you were met with a familiar presence. Your head softly snapped to study the table covered with baked goods, and you smiled brightly as you recognised the person. Rushing to his side, you wasted no time greeting him.

"Aziraphale !" You chirped as you stood a few feet away from him. The white-haired angel was startled, as he didn't expect you here, even less to catch him with his mouth full. He let out a muffled exclamation before swallowing with difficulty.

He coughed a bit before greeting you back. "Y/N, hello!" Aziraphale smiled and closed up to you ever so slightly. "Golly, I haven't seen you since the bastille." His whole presence was so warm, and you couldn't help but bask in it.

You nodded, still smiling like an idiot, as you looked at him up and down. "I'm relieved to see you understood how to dress according to the situation." You teased him playfully and nudged him gently. Worry had eaten you up for a long time since the last time you saw the trusting angel almost getting disintegrated, so it was refreshing to see him well and still so fluffy-looking.

"O-Oh.." He smiled, embarrassed, while rubbing where you had touched his arm. He laughed softly. "Yes, I learned my lesson well enough."

You grinned gently before grabbing a small snack from the display of food. "So, what have you been doing here?" You munched softly on the little dish before looking back up at him.

"Oh, well, I've been sent here to perform some miracles, as always." Aziraphale explained. "But I must admit that I stayed for the music and the food." He hummed as he picked out something too. "Ah !"

You laughed softly at him and took in the ballroom once more. "I see. It's nice to see another angel enjoying music too."

His eyes seemed to sparkle when he nodded. "Indeed, it is." He smiled, his squishy cheekbones raising up. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but blush at his attention, though you would not admit it. To shake those ideas out of your head and tilt your head towards the intricate dancing. "Even danced before?" You wondered, taking the last sip of your wine.

"Oh, heavens no..." Aziraphale dismissed you, while you still caught his yearning gaze directed to the dance floor. "Angels don't dance."

You raised your brows, your lips pouting in an agreeable manner. "True, but we are one of a kind." The smirk on your face was nothing but devilish.

He exhaled deeply and shook his head. "You spend too much time with Crowley." The last dance came to an end, and the room roared with delicate applause. Aziraphale kept fidgeting with his fingers, longing to join in on the next dance.

"By the way, I know the steps of the minuet." You trailed off casually. "I could guide you." A small grin creeped into the corner of your mouth.

His chest swelled quickly at your words. "You do?"

twirledYou didn't ans;er him, instead, you giggled and led him to the dance floor. In the dimly lit ballroom, the strains of a delicate melody of the song 'St James' House' twirling in the air. With a gentle yet firm touch, you guided him through the intricate steps of the dance, your movements fluid and effortless. As you two glided across the polished floor, your poised demeanour contrasted with the angel's tentative strides, yet he followed your lead with a mixture of awe and determination. His steps faltered occasionally, but your encouraging smile and subtle corrections kept him in rhythm. With each turn and twirl, you conveyed a seemingly lifetime of experience, while Aziraphake, with his earnest enthusiasm, added a sense of freshness and spontaneity to your performance.

He had the happiest grin on his face while gracefully gravitating around one another. "You're doing great."

His cheeks were coloured a soft pink. "It's so much better than I could imagine."

"You shouldn't be afraid to do what your heart wants because you dread what others might think." You chuckled and squeezed his hand.

His brown eyes met yours, and you smelled cypress and pitaya. The words escaped your mouth before you could think; they shocked both of you but truly conflicted him. And you wanted to slap yourself with your own hyprocrisy. However, Aziraphale didn't give your dark thoughts enough time to form.

"Sometimes I wish..." He whispered, looking down at his feet. You gave him time to form his words correctly, gently leading the dance. "I wish I wasn't attached to Heaven." He was truthfully letting his vulnerability out, trusting you with ideas that could get him erased. "Not that I want to be a demon; far from that! But... at least not having so many restrictions and rules."

"I understand how you feel; it's the way Heaven does things. I find it odd and... cruel." Under the facade of elegance and refinement, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the grandeur of the evening. You two kept twirling and spinning, your steps now synchronised in perfect harmony. With each turn and dip, no one could suspect how you spoke in hushed tones of the injustices and inequalities that plagued the very system they were sworn to uphold.

"It's unfathomable." Aziraphale murmured, his voice tinged with frustration, as he guided Amelia through a graceful turn. "How can we claim to be the arbiters of justice when we let incommensurable horrors happen on Earth ?"

Your brow furrowed in agreement as she met Aziraphale's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the harsh realities they both faced. "Indeed," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "I also had been exposed to a certain... hypocrisy." You kept escaping his gaze. "But at least, I think we can find beauty in the fact that despite all the hate in the world..."

You trailed off your last words, preferring to watch over the angel's shoulder and see your two clients still dancing with ardor. Their movements were a silent protest against the injustices that permeated their world, a defiant assertion of their shared belief in a better, more equitable future. A hope that encouraged them to share a kiss instead of guiding each other to their deaths. You smiled softly and led Aziraphale towards the outlet of the dance floor, as you had an arrow to shoot. "Most humans choose love."

As you finished your sentence, you reached the rest of the ballroom. Aziraphale's mouth was slightly open, as if totally mismerized by words. On instinct, you chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, Az, I have to go, but it was so good to see you again!" You chirped and fantastically ignored the angel's blush. "Bye, bye! Smooches !"

And you left, bouncing up and down and disappearing in the crowd. But you couldn't resist a last little peek. As you did, you catched Aziraphale, pressing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide open. You giggled. Sometimes you forget how angels aren't used to being physical; you have to cut him some slack.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1862, St. James Park, London

In the tranquil setting of the park, you stood next to the serene pond where ducks paddled lazily through the shimmering waters. With each gentle toss of seeds, you watched as the ducks eagerly darted forward, their feathers ruffling with excitement as they pecked at the scattered treats. You were waiting near the Aziraphale and Crowley, discretely, of course, and waiting to see the result of your new attempt. You had tried a new technique and sincerly hoped it worked this time.

Lost in the soothing rhythm of your task, Sarah hardly noticed the passage of time as she waited for her friend, Alex, to arrive. But as the minutes stretched into hours, a frown creased her brow, and a sense of unease began to gnaw at her. Finally, you spotted Crowley alone, striding towards you, his brow furrowed and his expression clouded with frustration. Your heart sank as you recognised the telltale signs of a heated altercation, and you braced yourself for the storm that was about to come.

As he approached, he stomped his foot heavily on the ground beside you, his movements stiff and tense. Sensing the tension radiating from her friend, she hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, a silent gesture of comfort and support.

He groaned loudly and kept fidgeting and squirming around; it was obvious he didn't handle frustration really well. "I can't believe him!"

You chuckled and turned back to the pound. "It's good to see you too, Crowley." You smirked.

"Yeah, yeah..." He dismissed me but didn't ask anything. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a crumpled paper bag, tossing a handful of breadcrumbs into the pond with more force than necessary, causing the ducks to scatter.

"Don't feed them bread!" You slapped his hand to stop him, causing all the crumbs to fall to the ground.

He frowened and shook his hand to nub the pain. "Why ?"

"It's bad for them! There." You stood up and gave him your small bag. "Give them some cracked corn, or even peas is fine!"

Crowley nodded absently and started throwing the seeds inside the lake in a more calm manner now.

“So, what did Aziraphale do to piss you off this time?” You grinned softly. 

He didn't smirk like he used to. Nor even scoff. You turned to him and realised he was playing with the small, empty bag. You frowned slightly and inhaled deeply. Rusty metal and tuna filled up your nose, making you fully turn. Why was he feeling guilty?

“Was it something you did?” You guessed in a soft voice, trying to show him you wouldn't judge him if he made a mistake.

He groaned and took off his glasses to rub his face. His bright yellow eyes met yours, and you saw doubt. What wasn't he ready to tell you? After everything you had discussed.

“If it’s something you said, I'm sure it can be dealt with.” You smiled reassuringly.

He shook his head and faced you slowly. “It's something I asked.” His answer was evasive, but at least he was giving you hints.

You nodded absently, though you didn't know what Crowley could have possibly asked that Aziraphale wouldn't allow. “Did you ask to buy a book?” 

He scoffed out a laugh. “I wouldn't dare.” 

“Then what?” You pressed in a near whine. Crowley lost his smile and looked back ahead. 

His chest rose in a deep inhale, and he reached in his pocket for a piece of oddly wet paper. With a scrunched nose, you took the slimy paper and opened it. And what you read made you feel what other cupids thought you always did. Dead serious.

“What…w-what..” You coughed and blinked repeatedly. “Why would you need that?” 

He was fixed on your face, examining your reaction. “For insurance. In case the deal goes wrong." 

“It's too dangerous.” You took a step back. Anger started to bubble in your stomach. Why ? You couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Maybe it was against Crowley for ever considering such an idea. Or against yourself for participating in a deal that you knew could bring mountains of troubles. You squished the paper in your hand and miracled it away. The red-haired man sighed next to you.

"Fine, take his side; I don't. As I said to him, I got other people to 'fraternize with, some more open-minded people." He pestered you, but you didn't miss the smell of hurt. You huffed anyway and frowned.

"Yeah, right, go on then. Go tell your demon friends how eager you are to get your hands on this; I'm sure they'll be thrilled!" You snarled and threw the last bit of seed into the water, miraculously not hitting any ducks. Not wanting to stay any longer, you left, purposely stepping on the ground harder than necessary.

In an effort to clear your mind, you strolled through the park while the regular questions came running back to you. Why, when you shoot an arrow at them, it doesn't complete their bound but instead leads them apart even more? What were you doing wrong? It often confused you and kept gnawing at your brain, so very often. You entered a part of the park filled with roses of all sorts, similar to the different types of affection and love. Because flowers tend to represent the variety of loves that exist in the world. White roses for young love, pink roses for gentle love... And in the case of this one, you weren't sure.

While you observed this new rose, you failed to notice the angel's presence right at the angle. He was smelling the same flowers as you, Jack Roses, as they were called, to calm his nerves. As he gazed back up, he spotted you. A smile adorned his face, and he gently made his way to you. "Y/N ?" He gently called out. You looked up, too, and smiled. Yeah, you both knew you had the same conversation.

In a comfortable silence, you went to sit together on the worn park bench, the evening sun casting a warm glow over the tranquil scene. You noticed the furrowed brow and tense posture of your friend. He kept twirling the rose in between his fingers. Quietly, you grabbed it from his hand and attached it to his jacket as an ornament.

With this gentle touch, you offered a wordless gesture of support and solidarity. Aziraphale's gaze flickered towards yours, uncertainty etched in the lines of his face, but as he met your reassuring gaze, a flicker of relief crossed his features. In that moment, you felt the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of reassurance and, you’d call it, camaraderie. After a few minutes, you grinned slightly and joked. “Fraternising ?” 

He scoffed and closed his eyes. “You know what I meant.” 

The problem ism that you didn't. Through theMilanals,s you never understood the nature of their bon,orr your relationship with them. Are they friends,camarades, or, lovers ? It was so mess and confusing. Maybe it was because of your heart, but you were not capable of identifying the truth of it all. And solely about them,m which only made it worse ! But now, you couldn't leave Aziraphale alone, could you? It was your fault if they split up, the least you could do was, well, do the right thing. And you always, always do what you think is best.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1941, London

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamor of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamour of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

You were frantancly looking for Aziraphale. The two of you had been hanging around each other, and you started to notice when he first had contact with the Nazis. And despite your anger, you knew he was putting himself in danger, and you couldn't help but come to his aid. The only problem was that you had no idea where he might be. With every passing moment, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on your shoulders, driving you forward with a relentless determination. Your senses were heightened, attuned to the cacophony of voices and the distant rumble of explosions that reverberated through the city like a symphony of chaos.

Through the haze of smoke and dust, your eyes kept flashing pink, searching frantically for his familiar aura, your aching heart hammering in your chest as she wove through the throngs of people who filled the streets like ants scurrying for cover. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you raced against time, your mind consumed by the singular purpose of finding Aziraphale and avoiding a catastrophe.

As you turned a corner into a narrow alleyway, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes finally spotted Aziraphale's bound, guiding you to a nearby church. With a surge of hope, you quickened your pace, your heart pounding in anticipation as you drew closer to the familiar energy. In your haze of thoughts, you didn't realise you were standing right in front of the huge wooden door and had kicked it open. The noise the door made mimicked thunder, startling the three men, though your blazing gaze was focused on only one. Azirphale had his eyes wide in complete confusion and was surprised. But only after a few seconds of taking your messy appearance in did worry morph into his face.

"Y/N ? Oh, my dear Lord, what happened to you ?" Aziraphale rushed to you, totally abandoning the two men.

"War happened to me." You growled before shaking your head and strolling towards him. "I can't believe you're dealing with Nazis !"

Meanwhile, a thinner man packed up the books Aziraphale had brought. "I will pass it on to the Fuehrer."

"To Hitler ? The wost human ever ?!" You sighed then, completely dejected. Like every war, it took a real toll on you. Love was hard to come by, and you were famished, going as far as bounding rats together. Aziraphale stumbled on his words, wanting to explain everything to you, but stopped himself.

"These volumes of prophecy will be in Berlin by the end of the week. The Fuehrer will be most grateful." You glared the Nazi's way, your face utterly sullen.

"You have been exceedingly helpful, Mr. Fell." You sent a deadly look in the white head direction while he kept fixing ahead of him, lips drawn in a thin line. That's when the noise of a gun resonated inside the empty space of the church. "Such a pity you and your friend must be eliminated, but take heart, just another in the blitz."

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, and you commented. "Again ?"

He pouted apologies in response and then turned back to his little friends. "That's not very sporting." You frowned, intrigued, and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

The chubbier one copied your frown and observed. "You do not appear worried, my friend."

The sound of heels was accompanied by another cocking gun. You turn around, your eyes widening along with the two other men, while Aziraphale fakes nonchalance. Still, he reeked of arrogance.

A woman dressed in black was aiming her weapon at the Nazis. "He's not worried." She revealed. She didn't smell friendly, though, but surprising enough, some humans were more talented at hiding their real intentions than others. That's why you couldn't figure her out. Wary, you softly stepped back, in between her and your friend.

"Who is she?" The man asked, and Aziraphale wasted no time in answering. "She, my double-dealing Nazi acquaintance, is the reason why none of those books are going back to Berlin." He turned to you, bowing his head with pride at his own schemes. "And why your nasty little spy ring will be spending the rest of the war behind bars." The two men nicely raised their hands and dropped their guns.

Suddenly, malice hit your nostrils—a mix of sweetpea and the steathy scent of gunpowder—revealing itself when you least expected it. Oh, come on...

"Let me introduce you to Captain Rose Montgomery of British Military Intelligence." The way he talked truly felt like he was reliving a scene from a mystery book, and you could easily get distracted by how much you enjoyed his almost childish joy if you weren't busy eyeing the woman's swinging aim.

She stepped closer, but you stood your ground next to the angel. "Thank you for the introduction." Her smile was too fake, and her gun kept pointing in the wrong direction, and you didn't hesitate to constantly step in the way.

"Our side knows all about the two of you. She recruited me to work for you." He insisted on the word 'work' while glancing furtively at you. But you knew something was off. "Aziraphale..." You started with a meek voice.

"And now she is going to tell you this building is surrounded by..." Aziraphale continued to ramble but interrupted him firmly.

"Aziraphale." You grabbed onto his arm to ground him as a twisted smile diformed the man's features.

"I'm afraid she works for us, Mr. Fell." You held back and growled as the man spoke up.

"Allow me to introduce Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt." The smaller man spoke slowly as the woman turned towards both of you, clearly aiming at you now. Aziraphale gasped, but you kept keeping him away from the weapon.

Greta kept stepping away and started to talk tenderly with one of the men. Gee, you couldn't believe that the most love you had felt in weeks was coming from the most terrible people God had ever created. You glanced back at Aziraphale, who was completely lost, and it pained your heart to see him like this. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." The gun was so close, you swore you could just knock it out of her hand. "Killing you."

"You can't kill us. There'll be paperwork." Azirphale almost pouted behind you, but you sensed him moving closer. But before anything could happen, the heavy wooden door slammed open once again.

And whoever had just entered seemed to have quite trouble breathing. Or maybe they were hurt. In the end, it was a mix of both. "Sorry, consecrated ground." It was Crowley, daring to walk into a church. His feet seemed to burn as he tried to spend minimal time on the ground. And you thought about how grateful you were that you had the ability to fly. "Oh ! It's like being at the beach in bare feet." His voice was so high-pitched that it almost made you laugh.

"Crowley ?" You mused, at a loss for words. It's been years since you've seen him—well,  since your argument in St. James—and it would be a lie if you said you hadn't missed him.

"Yep, the one and only, always there to save your butts." He teased while turning around in circles to avoid standing in one place.

"I should have known, of course. These people are working for you." Aziraphale accused you and finally stepped in front of you.

The demon seeked suppot in one of the dark benches as the floor kept burning him. "Nah, they're a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running London, blackmailing and mudering people. I just didn't want to see you  embarrassed." He tried to nag but couldn't handle the pain. Instead, he waddled around like a duck.

"Indeed, I see you are covering for us both." Azirphaled mocked you in a hushed voice and smiled when he noticed the growing grin on your face, even if you tried to mask it.

"Mr. Anthony J. Crowley. Your fame precedes you." The man started, catching your attention, and you noticed the woman almost drooling over your friend. Well, it was a bit exaggerated, but it seemed like the best vocabulary to use in that moment.

"Anthony ?" Aziraphale wondered, unsure if he heard him right. "You don't like it ?" Crowley retored, and you smelled legit curiousity; the thought of him changing his name to suit the angel caused a cheeky smile.

"No, no, I didn't say that. I'll get used to it." The white head reassured me, though he kept frowning. And it raised a couple questions for you too.

"Wait, so what's your name ? Or do they call you Aziraphale Fell ?" You leaned in, tilting your head to the side. "Kinda redundant, don't you think ?" You jested with a smirk.

"Really not the place, dear." The angel lectured gently but didn't lean away.

"The famous Mr. Crowley ?" She kept eyeing him like a piece of meat, and you really didn't like that, and you unconsciously moved in front of the demon, but it was kind of useless considering he had to keep moving. "That's such a pity that the three of you must die."

Crowley tipped his hat, and you pouted. "What does the 'J' stand for ?" You continued, despite what Aziraphale had just said.

"It's just a 'J', really... Look at that !" You frowned, followed, and looked over where he was gawking. Holy water. You scowled. "A whole fontful of holy water doesn't even have guards !" The red head explained a mixture of pain and excitement.

"Enough babbling. Kill them both." The Nazi finally ordered, already grabbing the bag full of books.

However, Crowley had other plans. "In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here." He gestured while dancing around. "If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won't enjoy dying; you definitely won't enjoy what comes after." You nodded in agreement, almost mocking.

"You expect us to believe that ? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End." The chubbier man smirked.

"Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course." Crowley confirmed, and you decided to play along.

"I think you're all wasting quite valuable time, dear fellows." You smirked; you couldn't admit it, but you truly hoped they wouldn't run away and would rot in Hell.

"And if, in 30 seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friends and I to survive it." He tilted his head to the side, towards Aziraphale.

"A real miracle?" The angel stammered in response, carefully moving closer to the two of you.

"Kill them. They are very irritating."

Crowley raised his hands and pointed at the ceiling, expectingly. Suddenly, a distant rumble echoed through the darkness, growing louder and more ominous with each passing second. The ground beneath your feet trembled as if in anticipation, sending shivers down her spine. The air crackled with electricity as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears, drowning out all other noise save for the rapid beat of your heart.

With a deafening roar, the bomb plummeted towards the earth like a deadly harbinger of destruction, its descent marked by a piercing shriek that cut through the silence like a knife. As the bomb crashed into the church with a thunderous explosion, the earth shook with the force of its impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the air like ripples on a pond. Glass shattered and metal groaned in protest as the building buckled under the sheer force of the blast, the sound of crumbling masonry echoing through the night like the tolling of a funeral bell.

At an agonisingly slow pace, things settled. Your eyes had started to water, and you had instinctively closed your eyes to shelter yourself away from the bright light, the noise, and the chaos. The fear inside you was growing exponentially. It all happened in seconds. Your heartbeat was racing wildly, and your breath was shallow and erratic when you felt a person's touch. You were confused, and the person kept calling your name, but you couldn't find the strength or courage to look up and see who it was.

"Y/N..." The voice sighed, saddened by your state. Ever so gently, you found yourself enveloped in a warm embrace. You inhaled deeply the scent of the coat in which your face was buried and recognised Aziraphale. His arms encircled you with a sense of unwavering comfort and solace. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of shock, and your mind was reeling from the turmoil of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

As the angel held you close, you could feel the steady rhythm of his pristine heartbeat echoing against your ear, which was so reassuring. Crowley came closer too, but kept a distance and slowly stroked your. You felt the tension in your muscles begin to ease, the tight knot of fear slowly unravelling under the soothing touch of your friends embrace. In this cocoon, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath and process everything. You weren't used to so much action, preferring to act from afar. With each passing moment, you felt a sense of tranquilly wash over you, like a gentle tide lulling her into a state of calm surrender.

Finally, you regain composure and separate yourself from Aziraphale, while Crowley backs away. "T-Thanks..." You sniffed. The angel simply smiled warmly and kept his hand on your right arm, as if to grant you at least a bit of contact.

He then turned to Crowley. "That was very kind of you." He smiled once more and nodded thankfully.

"Shut up..." He brushed off, putting back his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the night.

"It truly was." You thanked me too. And you saw Crowley lip twitch in an apologetic pout, but you weren't mad at him; you didn't even think you would react like that. "Hey, there'll be no paperwork !" You chuckled.

Aziraphale along with you too, until he realised something. "Oh, the books!" He quickly scanned over the debris but didn't see them. "Oh, I forgot all the books !" You tried to look for the bag too, and apparently so did Crowley. "Oh, they'll all be blown away."

The demon approached us once again, the bag full of books completely untouched. Your eyes widened, and you watched the interaction with a tender gaze.

"A little demonic miracle of my own." Crowley handed it back to Aziraphale, who simply watched, dumbfounded and so, so smitten. You grinned and blushed at the rush of love you felt deep in your heart. "Lift home ?" He offered as if nothing had happened and walked over a black Bentley.

After inhaling deeply and discretely fed on the love, you gasped at the sight of the machine. "You have a car ?!" You chirped and sprinted behind Crowley, while Aziraphale stayed behind. Though the night was far from over, it started incredibly well, 'cause tonight, you'll be able to feast on a whole lot of love!

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1967, Soho, London

In the smoky haze of the dimly lit bar, you sat perched on a bar stool, a tumbler of whisky cradled in her hand. The amber liquid glinted in the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting a warm, comforting glow over your features as you took a slow sip, savouring the burn that spread through your chest. You truly enjoyed this new pub, and particularly its name, 'The Dirty Donkey'. Yeah, it always makes your drunken laugh out loud every time you think about it.

For a fleeting moment, you felt a sense of contentment wash over her, the familiar rhythms of the bar providing a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. But as you glanced across the room, your gaze fell upon your dear client, Crowley, engaged in a conversation with two humans, causing you to cock a brow. They were moving to a private room, much to your surprise and honest annoyance. Thankfuly, not all your clients were desperatly trying to get themselves in trouble; expect two very specific men.

Groaning, you abandoned your glass on the counter and followed them. And yes, you had no shame in eavesdropping on people. Crowley hunched over the table, his voice low and calm as he exchanged words with the shady couple. Your brows furrowed with concern as you watched the exchange unfold, a sense of unease settling like a stone in the pit of your stomach.

"So, Spike, you're the muscles; you'll be hauling on the ropes." The demon explained it all too professionally.

"And she'll be going down on..." You didn't have time to hear the rest as you felt a presence nearing you. With a gasp, you swiftly put on the blindness, and you reprimand yourself for not thinking of it sooner. A young man walks past you and enters the room. In spite of your desire to follow him, you knew better and focused on spying.

"Who are you ?" A man spoke.

"I understand you need a locksmith." You grew even more confused. Why on Earth would Crowley need help picking up a lock?

You recognised Crowley right away. "I was expecting Mr. Narker."

"Well, Mr. Narker's passed on to his reward. I've taken over the business." The voice was the nearest; you figured it was the youngest. "He was my cellmate. He taught me everything he knew. "You rolled your eyes. Gosh, you hated when you were right.

"My name's Shadwell." You kept focusing; you needed to know what Crowley was planning.

"Please... sit down, Mr. Shadwell."

"Lance Corporal Shadwell. If you don't mind." Unbeknownst to the both of you, Crowley and you shared an unimpressed expression at the man's arrogance.

"So, what's so valuable that they're going to leave it in a church at night?" A more feminine voice inquired.  That was when the truth came crashing down on you. You closed your eyes and sighed. He was still after that god-forsaken holy water. You gritted your teeth in anger, but another emotion overtook your wrath. You truly feared for his safety, knowing that he was treading dangerously close to a path from which there might be no return.

With a sense of determination, you straightened up and marched your way out of the building. You had to talk with Aziraphale now. So, wasting no time, you strolled proudly to the angel's bookshop, which was only a few miles away, and even if it erased any trace of epicness, you rushed in.

Startled, Aziraphale's gaze shot up from his book, and he met you in a near panic. "Oh my Lord, Y/N, don't enter like that." He said it gently while putting down his book.

"Sorry, Az, but it's kind of urgent." You apologised while hurriedly floating his way. "Crowley is in trouble."

He met you half-way, sending you a wave of snowy nights. "What kind of trouble?"

"He's going to rob a church to get holy water!" You cried out, deeply worried, too.

"Oh my God, I cannot believe him!" He exclaimed angrily, still in his polite tone. You sighed and waited for a few minutes, as Aziraphale's footsteps marked the tempo of his passing. It gave you both time to consider the whole situation and what your options were. There was no way you would just stay still without doing anything. But how could you prevent him from putting himself in danger?

That's when you got an idea. It wasn't the best, and you knew you'd have to convince the angel and yourself. Swallowing thickly, you finally took a step towards him and called his name. "Aziraphale ?"

He stopped in his tracks and waited for you expectantly, thinking you had found the solution to all your problems. Your lips formed a thin line before you finally offered him your thoughts. "I know what we agreed on, but... maybe we could trust him."

"What ?" His face had lost all its colour, and he looked at you like you had lost your mind. Which was understandable.

You exhaled and put your hand on his shoulder. "Think about it. What's worse? Has he tried to get the holy water on his own, possibly getting caught or, even worse, splashing himself in the process?" You seeked his eyes to convey how much you believed in your idea.

Aziraphale almost pleaded with you with his eyes. You frowned apologies and smiled softly. You were asking for a lot; he was terrified for his life, and you had just suggested giving him a suicidal pill. However, the angel surprised you once again. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. "Okay."

A few moments later, you and Aziraphale teleported to Crowley's car. You held tightly to the bottle and hid it on the ground in between your legs. Just at the same time, the demon entered his car, sitting lazily. That's when he felt your presence and turned to you, astounded. "What are you doing here?"

"We needed a word with you." Aziraphale started calmly, with a high reserve.

"What ?" He faked ignorance.

Obviously, it didn't fool you, and you rolled your eyes. "Please, we both work in London; it's hard to miss things." Crowley glanced at you from the rear mirror but didn't say anything.

"And apparently you're setting up a... caper." The angel glanced towards you too, searching for backup. "To rob a church."

You nodded and leaned forward, between their seats. "Crowley, it's too dangerous." But your friend didn't let you influence him and kept looking away.

"Holy water won't just kill your body. It will destroy you completely." Aziraphale added, dread lacing his voice.

"You told me what you think 105 years ago." He snarled lowly, exasperation in the back of his throat.

"And nothing changed." You said it serverly, gripping on the leather seat, gaining Crowley's attention as he turned towards you.

"But... we can't have you risking your life." Though you knew you should have backed out the moment you were added to the equation of 'we', you couldn't just leave. "Not even for something dangerous..." Aziraphale sighed.

"So..." You reached down to the car floor, carefully pulled out the thermos, and slowly handed it to Crowley. His hands shook as he reached to grab it, though you still held onto it.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly and eyed the bottle like a hawk. "You can call off the robbery."

Your fingers met with the demon's as you let go of the bottle. "Watch the cap. Don't unscrew it unless it's your last resort." You warned in a hush voice, afraid the cap might just pop right off it.

"It's the real thing?" Despite his glasses, you can see how incredulous his face was. He held the holy water like a bomb, ready to explode.

"The holiest." Aziraphale was incredibly stiff, and he kept leaning away.

"After everything you said..." he whispered, unable to wrap his mind around the idea of the both of you giving in. "Should I say thank you?"

"Better not..." You smiled.

"Well, can I drop you anywhere?"

"No. Thank you.." Crowley pouted; he really wanted to do something for Aziraphale, but he kept being so stubborn. "Oh, don't look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know." He smiled thoughtfully. "Go for a picnic." He then glanced at you, truly hoping you would accept his next offer. "Dine at the Ritz." He shrugged. You looked down; maybe you were the stubborn one after all.

But Crowley insisted. "I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go."

"You go too fast for me, Crowley." Really ? Like, really? You sighed and roughly leaned back on the seat. Aziraphale didn't waste any more time and slipped out without saying another word.

But you could see past the facade of bravado the vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface of Crowley's neutral exterior. So, you reached out to him, making a silent plea for him to not give up. You knew that no matter how fiercely Aziraphale resisted, he would always be there by his side, despite how much he wanted to pull away.

For your part, you stayed, feeling a kind of pull urging you to do so. After spending some time in silence, Crowley spoke up. "Need a life, sweetheart?"

You chuckled and sat back up. "Please..." You observed the wheel for a few seconds before chirping, interrupting his movements. "Can I drive?" You used your big, charming smile.

Crowley glanced your way for a few minutes, contemplating the idea before shrugging. "Sure." He opened his door to switch places. You grinned mischievously and grabbed the stirring wheel tightly.

"I'll give it to you fast, boy." You said that and started the engine. Pray for Crowley's poor heart.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

2000, Aziraphale's bookshop, London

On your way to meeting Aziraphale and Crowley, you couldn't help but giggle like a little child. You skipped through London, avoiding flying and frightening the sweet baby creature snuggled against my chest. You didn't know such an adorable thing could ever exist, but humans were always full of wonderful surprises! You squeezed your way through the crowd on the busy side walk before finally catching a glimpse of the angel's bookshop.

"Almost there, baby!" You cooed with a big smile and felt her squirm against you. You hurried to cross the street and forcefully pushed the door open with your shoulder. The bell rang loudly, which brought your friends attention to you. Crowley was sitting on the couch, well, more like his body was thrown carelessly on it, whereas Aziraphale was nicely sitting on his big, comfy chair and holding a small device in his hand.

Crowley threw his head back to look at you. "Happy new milenial." He joked with scoff. You smiled brightly and floated towards them, not far away from the ground but enough to not walk down the stairs.

"Hello..." You sang and giggled again until I landed next to the couch. You squeezed the little bundle of joy into your arms. Aziraphale cocked a brow, amused.

"What do you have here, dear?" He smirked, curious. Crowley sat up and looked at you, intrigued as well.

"Oh... nothing..." You chuckled, giggling. Scanning the room for a place to sit, you notice a brand new big divan, which you had never noticed before. "Well, this is new."

Aziraphale got up and took the place next to you. "Indeed, it is." He laughed softly. "It's for you." You looked at him, showing him your disbelief.

"Aw, really?" You asked while approaching the grey van. It had a back, so you didn't have to just lie on it, and it looked really squishy too. You sat down on it and smiled brightly. "Oh, this is great! Thank you.."

The angel dismissed your gratitude with a small gesture. "No need to thank me, dear. "You'd simply like a place to sit on your own."

You smiled gently at him before Crowley spoke up. "What kind of animal is that?" He titled his head to the blanket in your arms as he gave off strong aromas of curiosity and... endermant?

You brushed it off and inhaled deeply. "Gentlemen..." You started trying to set the ambiance. Both of them leaned slightly. "Let me present to you... Eden!" You exclaimed wildly and took off the blanket, reaveling your new baby white dexter mini cow in all her cuteness. She mowed softly as you put her down. She was extremely tiny, with her white coat, black ears, and snoot.

"Oh..." Aziraphale cooed, and you could smell how smitten he was already with her. "She is precious." He affirmed.

Crowley gave off the same scent but still tried to keep up his mocking exterior. "Wow, that's where mini hambergers meat comes from." He teased, his uncovered eyes sparkling with mischief.

You gasped loudly, fakely offended, and went to cover her ears. "Shh, you fool ! She might hear you." Eden mooed and nudged your arm. "I know, baby, he's a meanie." You cooed and kissed her forehead.

"Damn right." He laughed and caressed the mini cow's fur.

"Right, you are absolutely dreadful." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, mocking the gentle behaviour of his friend. Crowley growled but didn't retort anything. "

"Really, you would do that ?" You smiled brightly, earning a chuckle from the angel.

"Of course, you spend so much time here; it would be cruel to leave that poor creature all alone." He tilted his head to the side, inviting you to follow him.

Aziraphale opened a door, right behind all the shelves, in the hidden parts of the bookshop. The room was dusty and crammed with books and antics, from the ground to the ceiling. And despite the library in itself, it was the largest room the bookshop had.

"We'll just put all that into other rooms and upstairs."

You turned to Azirphale, who was making grand movements to explain his whole plan. "It would be its personal stable. He smiled from ear to ear. It truly warmed your heart to see him so involved.

Crowley was leaning against the door frame, holding Eden to his chest. You spotted him and cooed mockingly. "Aren't you a sweetheart?"

He scoffed while petting Eden's head. "Nah, that's your job."

You pursed your lips into a bashful smile before an idea popped into my mind. "Oh, I never thought of what a cow might eat !" You exclaimed, outraged at your ignorance.

"Don't worry, dear, I'm sure I have a book about it somewhere." Aziraphale was reassured, already leaving the room to find it.

You sighed in relief and followed right behind him. It took some time, but you eventually found it and walked back towards the room, leafing through the book. The two of you came to a sudden stop. Everything that was previously in the room was lying on the ground. Aziraphale let out an offended gasp.

"Crowley ?" You called out, midway concerned and amused. "I'm not sure that's how you tidy a room."

The angel was the first to open the door abruptly and stop just as fast. You pressed yourself against him to see what happened to the room. Your eyes widened, your heart quickening, and your eyes flashed pink. "Wow..."

The room, if you still call it that, had enormously enlarged. So much that it actually had an horizon. In the seemingly soft glow of dawn, the meadow unfurled like a tapestry woven with a myriad of colors. Dew-kissed grasses shimmered with a silvery sheen as they swayed gently in the early morning breeze. A symphony of bird songs filled the air, weaving melodies that danced among the fragrant blooms.

Clusters of wildflowers adorned the landscape, painting the meadow a kaleidoscope of hues. Sun-kissed daisies nodded their heads in greeting, and their cheerful faces turned towards the rising sun. Delicate lavender blossoms released their sweet, intoxicating fragrance, mingling with the earthy scent of fresh grass and damp soil.

Water streams meandered lazily through the meadow, their crystal-clear waters glinting in the golden light. They carved sinuous paths among the greenery, creating small, tranquil pools where dragonflies darted and frogs sang their morning serenades. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, their delicate wings shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight. Bees hummed busily, collecting nectar from the blooms and adding their gentle buzz to the symphony of nature's orchestra.

The ceiling—no, the sky—wasn't entirely blue, but it reminded you of a gentle summer morning. Just the softest warmth. We slowly walked into the landscape, afraid to disrupt it. The thick grass felt mellow under your feet, and you couldn't resist kicking off your shoes to feel it yourself. Aziraphale chuckles, joining the sweet sounds of birds and the running water.

"This is amazing !" You laughed in disbelief and utter joy, twirling around, taking in everything this beautiful place had to offer. The ground was now the last thing on your mind, and you took off in the air, floating around like a cherub.

"I can't believe Crowley did all this in such a short amount of time." Aziraphale backed up, caressing the petals of a Jack Rose.

You chuckled and floated in a circle around him. "Where do you think he is ?" Your eyes scanned the area, and you spotted him beyond a field of yarrows, answering your own question. "There ! C'mon !" You landed abruptly next to Aziraphale and took his arm, hurrying him to climb up the small hill.

Crowley was sitting underneath a tree that bore the colours of a pink cherry tree, but the lazy branches resembled those of a weeping willow. Eden quiet moos caused you to smile and rush the final feet, seperating you from the two of them. The demon smiled almost smugly at your arrival, and you responded with a bright grin.

"This incredible..." You panted a bit and roughly let yourself fall on your back, on the grass. Aziraphale chuckled and miracled a blanket under the four of you. A comfortable hum came out instinctively, and you completely laid on the ground. With a happy coo, Eden waddled her way and rested her head on your stomach. Aziraphale sat down as well, crossed his legs, and congratulated Crowley on his work.

"Now, this is a wonderful place to have a picnic." Aziraphale sighed and rested back on his arms. You chuckled and laid down on the blanket. Eden's weight left a comfortable pressure on your chest. Staring at the sunny sky through the pink brenches of the tree, the scent of heliotrope embraces your entire being.

You never knew what heliotrope was meant to represent, despite how many times you asked Mihael about its meaning. All she ever gave you as an answer was a cheeky smile and a shrug. So, you didn't ask further. And right now, all you wanted to do was bask in the scent and never leave this meadow.

Or its inhabitants. For anything in the world.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

There... Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to sleep U,w,U

Hope you liked it, I put extra details for you to enjoy ! Now let's hope Y/N | Balael will be and about in the next chapter, 'cause they're running out of time ;)

And if they're any errors like a lot 'I's instead of 'You's please let me know ^^

Bye bye !

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Masterlist : Here

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[purplesoulcollection]

Unnatural Love

Part 19 Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi There! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.

I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English not my first language.

Tililit

The phone's ringtone serves as a notification to inform the owner of an incoming call.

She picked up her phone after typing something important to her that required her attention, irritated with her own phone. She glance to identify the caller quickly so she can go back to typing,

Upon recognizing the caller's identity, her expression soured. She had already anticipated the nature of the conversation that awaited her. Dread coming towards her like a wave.

Though she felt reluctant, she ultimately decided to answer the call.

However, she could not even manage a greeting before a voice interrupted her. "Girl, when are you going to get married? Your mother has been waiting for you to find someone." The caller was quite direct in expressing their intentions. No small talk to chit chat.

The woman was momentarily taken aback, but she did not allow this to deter her.

"Mom, why are you asking me that? Are you not satisfied with having a grandchild from my sister?"

Indeed, her sister was fortunate enough to have found someone she loved and married him, despite being younger than her.

Her mother must be frustrated because she, the older sibling, remained unmarried while her sister had already surpassed her in that regard.

"One grandchild is not enough, dear. All of my children should be married and have their own children. Do you want me to come over and explain this in more detail?" Shouted by her, she could hear the baby's voice along with the mother's voice.

Apparently her mother become the nanny to her grandchild today.

Mother just putting on a show, and she knows it. That was a classic move from her mother. She kept using that tactic over and over, like a song stuck on repeat, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. It was obvious she was just talking without any real plans to follow through.

She don't want to come here and make herself tired.

I sarcastically mocked mother. "You can’t do that anyway, Mom. You’re too busy taking care of your own grandchild. Plus, I don’t even have anyone in mind for marriage. I’m not old enough for you to remind me about marriage every single day."

And finally she snapped to me like a wire of the snapped guitar "You’re not too young! You’re already 25! I gave birth to you 25 years ago. Your sister is even married before you. Aren’t you embarrassed, Mom? The neighbors are already bringing it up in front of me."

I imagined mom being ganged by the other gossiped mom, it's not looking so good, but she have to mad for me.

I raised my voice, losing my patience. "I’m not even close to that, Mom! Why can’t you just brush off the gossip?"

My outburst only made her angrier. "How dare you speak to me like that, young lady? Fine, I won’t bother with you anymore." With that, she hung up, leaving me in the midst of the chaos, staring at the phone.

I set my phone down on the table, hugged my knees, and felt a wave of sadness wash over me. Even though I was used to my mom’s constant chatter, it still hurt. No matter what, she always seemed dissatisfied with me, and it pained me to see her upset.

"You didn't even care to me at all, mom... " my murmur to my pitiful self. Flashback playing in my head.

Mom always liked this since in the past, she don't care me as her child. She only wants me to live and she always ignore me since I child. while I often felt ignored, especially since my sister and I were left alone while our parents busied themselves with their restaurant.

Their energy and attention were always devoted to the restaurant, and I would only see them in the mornings when they rushed out to open up or at night when they were too exhausted to engage with me.

We felt like strangers, despite sharing the same blood. They provided for us financially, but that was about it.

I pressed my fingers to my temples, feeling overwhelmed. Conversations with my parents now leave me feeling drained.

As a child, they rarely spoke to me, even when I tried to reach out. So why do they want to talk to me now? Is it just because they’re getting older and suddenly interested in my life?

I notice my own writing hanging in the balance as I pick up my phone. My mood has shifted, and I realize I can't focus on writing right now. I’ll have to come back to it later.

I leave my laptop behind, making sure to save my work before I rush to my bed, seeking the warmth and comfort I need.

It’s not exactly what I envisioned, but it’s all I have at the moment.

If I’m already feeling down about my mom, maybe I should also think about Deon. It might just deepen my sadness instead of letting me enjoy the fleeting moments of happiness.

Is he doing okay in his world? What happens next after I leave this one? Can he move on without me? I truly hope so…

Even though I’m reluctant to let him go, fate has already played its hand, casting Deon as the hero while I remain a pawn in his story.

Maybe I should stay in that world...

Maybe I shouldn't push Deon's hand...

Maybe I should loving myself as a demon even faster...

The past is behind me, and no amount of regret can alter it. Deon and I might be a couple meant to cross paths, but perhaps we’re not meant to last.

I became reminded to my first day after I come back

When I opened my eyes, this is what I saw. My gaze fell on the screen, revealing my own room.

I should feel joy at the sight of my space, as one would expect, but instead, tears streamed down my face. Happiness felt out of reach.

I’ve returned to my own reality, leaving Deon behind…

That screen stands as the final proof of this world’s existence for me before it fades away, just like it has done before. It leaves me alone, surrounded by my own tears.

Deon pleads with me, his voice thick with emotion, perhaps feeling as deeply as I do. Even though I tried to mask my sadness, it’s impossible to ignore the desperation in his tone, which inevitably touches me too.

With that thought, I can only cry. I’ve already shed so many tears on the first day. My emotions feel dulled now, exhausted from being sad for Deon.

This has been my reality for three years.

My own struggles in this world have kept me too occupied to daydream about Deon. I thought I had moved on, or at least that’s what I tell myself.

But since then, I can't find any romance partner. Fate didn't bring a romance partner instead of Deon for me.

I don't know if I am not the ideal woman for a man or not but nobody trying to know me more detailed.

The people I meet only the professional one, stay in an appropriate distance and having no interest to me. So I'm not close with anyone. The world is hard for me to even approach someone.

I sighed tiredly, maybe the experience to transmigrated already exhaust all my own luckiness in this world.

"I need something sweet, should I go to buy something?! "

And to elevate my own mood...

And so I changed my own pajama to something more suitable for go outside buy some sweets.

She chose not to head home immediately. Just grabbing some treats and going straight back felt too mundane. Living alone, I thought, if I don’t take advantage of my temporary freedom now, when will I?

I picked up some sweets and a little alcohol, hoping to escape the gloom of my empty apartment that feels so lonely without anyone else around.

My parents are far away, and they can be quite challenging to deal with. My sister is caught up in her own family life, and I don’t have any friends who aren’t overly curious about my situation.

I ended up drinking in the park, trying to drown my sorrows, but it didn’t really help. Instead, it just brought my hidden emotions to the forefront.

I swear I didn’t overdo it; I’m still a woman, not some guy who can lounge around without a care in the world. I think I bumped into a few people, but I always made sure to apologize, even if I was a bit wobbly.

Then I encountered a guy and said sorry to him, but he stopped me. I shot him a glare, trying to focus on this unfamiliar face, noticing he didn’t have any curves at all.

He looked blurry to me, and I couldn’t quite make out his features.

I wasn’t sure what I was saying; it all came out in a jumble, typical of someone who’s had a bit too much to drink. My vision was foggy, and my thoughts were scattered.

But i still said it, "Deon?"

Why am i so warm?

I always turn on the air conditioning, knowing I’ll be freezing in the morning, but surprisingly, this time I’m not cold at all. In fact, it feels quite the opposite.

I can’t quite recall what happened last night. Did anything even happen? As I slowly opened my heavy eyelids, I had to blink several times before realizing that I wasn’t in my own space.

I rubbed my eyes a few times, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

The room around me is wild. It has a cool gray color scheme, and even the blanket I’m under is gray. As I look around, I notice the decor is stylish and elegant—definitely not what I’d expect from a woman’s room.

Could it be that I ended up in a guy’s room? Does this mean I had a one-night stand?

I glanced down at my clothes and noticed I was in pajamas.

Wait, if I really did have a one-night stand, shouldn’t I be naked? Why am I already dressed? Did someone really sleep with me without my knowledge, or did I get changed without anything happening?

Then it hit me—I felt warm and was lying on my side, which meant the guy must be behind me.

Nervously, I turned my head, trying to be careful and promising myself not to scream when I saw his face.

And then I saw him…

Deon?!

I couldn’t help but scream, breaking my own promise. I quickly pulled away and fell out of bed. The loud thud from my fall startled him awake. He looked around, only to spot my feet sticking out.

He rushed over to me on the floor. My backside took quite a hit from the fall, and my head was spinning a bit.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching down to lift me by my armpits, cradling me like a baby as we locked eyes.

I know I’m a bit shorter than him, but that doesn’t mean he can just carry me like this, with my legs dangling in the air! If I had to choose a position, I’d prefer to carried from the back...

WAIT, SO I REALLY HAVING ONE NIGHT STAND WITH DEON?!

THE END...

Extra:

"Are you really Deon Hardt in another world?" I looked at him with my suspecting eyes, not wanting to directly trust his word. Even if the face is same as my memory serves.

He looked at me with those pleading puppy eyes, clearly hurt by my doubt. "Yes, are you not believing me at all, Adele?"

Adele is not the name i used here. He's the real one...

I tried to defend myself against his accusation. "You know my name here. I think you only the different person with the same face!!!"

"You're the one who called me." He complained a little to make me believe him, but luck is not with him.

"I don't even remember how we met, Deon. So i can't confirm anything you want to confirm to me?"

"You are being so chatty when you're drunk, Name. You must not drunk without me around you or someone will used that to scam you." His worried face make me sulky with no talkback i can use. I myself also know that it wasn't safe for me either.

"It's my first time, Deon. I swear- I'm not trying to become alcoholic!" I replied with conscience of guilty, he then make a relieved face.

"Good..."

"So we are not doing it?" I gestured with my fingers, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

"Of course no, Name. I don't want to do it when you don't even realize me. We are already couple, why i must take an advantage from you?"

I don't know what i want to say about this topic so i direct it to wherever else.

"So how did you get here, Deon. Isn't this world looks strange to you? With technology and electronics"

"It's a bit odd, yet also pleasant. The divine has granted me the essential memories I need to live and function, so I don't come off as lost or out of place in this world."

I felt my expression and thoughts go blank. Did he just say... "The GOD?! You talk to GOD?! You really are something special, Deon..."

"Not really, Adele." He kept me grounded, even though it's an accomplishment not everyone achieves.

"Since when you came here?"

"Since 4 months ago..."

"What's your job here?"

"Model, that's the job i have."

Wow, Deon has really made it as a model in this world. Now I see why he can afford such a stylish apartment—it's way nicer than my own budget-friendly place.

"Did you apply for that?"

"No, it was the job search agent who suggested I become a model, even though I had no idea about this world."

I believe the agent has a point. If Deon can maintain his handsome and enigmatic appearance, he could easily find success as a model or even as a content creator, showcasing his looks in various ways. He truly has the ultimate advantage in navigating this world.

As I drift off into my thoughts, I notice Deon gazing at me quietly. A warm expression lights up his face as he looks my way. "Adele."

"Hm…" I catch his words, even if I’m not fully focused on him.

"I missed you, so I came here to see you. Do you miss me?" he says with that charming smile of his before pulling me into a hug. He really is a game-changer, making me laugh with pride as I gently pat his back. Having him in my life is undoubtedly one of the best things that has happened to me.

"Of course i do, Deon. You're my first and last love at all, I'm happy you can reach me now."

---

Thank you for sticking with this story until the end! As a token of my appreciation, here’s a little insight. Initially, I only planned to write up to part 5. I was torn between continuing the story or wrapping it up like a oneshot, which would have left things open-ended yet still somewhat satisfying. Ultimately, I decided to expand the narrative and tweak the storyline a bit. Keeping Cruel alive meant Deon would face less heartache, even though it’s Adele who ultimately has to step into Cruel's role and leave Deon behind.

I’m proud to say I transformed the typical tragic ending trope into one that includes romance and struggle. This is my first and favorite piece because I managed to see it through to completion, despite some noticeable plot holes. Does anyone have any requests for Deon and Adele? I’d love to hear your ideas before I attempt to address those plot holes with additional stories—if I decide to write them!

[layla4567]

Adam Warlock Headcanons

Warnings: angst, smut, mentions of sex and body parts, nudity, mention of masturbation, mention of bondage, maybe gotg v3 spoilers, and i think that's all

SFW

Adam cares more about your feelings than his own. Do you have a small scratch on your face? Adam will put his hands on your cheeks and carefully examine you as if he were a doctor. Are you sad about something? He will not leave your side and will hug you if necessary, he will also listen to you for as long as you need without interrupting you.

He is an enthusiast for learning new things, he will want to learn all the information he can to enrich his experiences. He loves that you teach him things he doesn't know. He likes to listen to your warm voice while you explain to him what the earth is like or how plants grow or even your favorite book, the simple fact of seeing your face light up comforts him

If you know how to sing or dance, prepare for Adam to enjoy watching or listening to you all day. Your melodious and honeyed voice sweetening his ears like the nectar of flowers is for him the best sensation in the world. Sometimes he watches you with a tender look while you sing distractedly. And every time you dance, your joyous and contagious energy envelops Adam like a warm blanket. Your dizzying turns and the way you move your arms harmoniously make Adam want to dance with you and he wishes you would teach him.

He is definitely a jealous guy. He understands that you can have friends and be with several people but sometimes he feels sick to your stomach every time you're with a guy, it makes him feel insecure as if he's not good or handsome enough for you. Adam feels like you belong to him, and not in a toxic or misogynistic way, but it's just that to him you're the best thing that's ever happened to him and every time you don't spend time with him his heart sinks a little.

Adam hates bullies. When he sees that someone is being rude to anyone in Knowhere, his eyes harden and his fists clench firmly and he will walk with a sure step towards that person to teach him a lesson. However, Adam is quite a pacifist so he won't fix things by fighting, he will simply talk and maybe, why not, if the bully is too pedantic Adam will threaten him

This golden boy has a hard time expressing his feelings because he simply doesn't understand them, when he saw you for the first time he felt something in his belly, a strange tingling that filled him with adrenaline. He looked everywhere for help, at first he thought he was sick but the sensation was not uncomfortable, on the contrary, every time he was near you he felt comfortable and safe. He asked all the guardians what it was that he felt, they all said the same thing. Love. Oh boy, he got a little scared, he didn't know how to confess his feelings towards you.

When he finally made up his mind to tell you how much he loves you, he blurted out the words as if he were getting rid of a heavy load. Adam was afraid you'd reject him but apparently the feeling was mutual. You will always remember how his face relaxed and a big smile lit up his lips.

He loves hugs! He is like a child seeking maternal warmth. He will hug you whenever he can and sometimes when you are off guard. Being taller, he likes to hug you from behind and rest his chin on top of your head. Other times, you will be the one who needs a hug so he will wrap you in his strong arms wrapping you and caressing your back. He just loves physical contact as a love language.

And speaking of hugs, Adam also really enjoys cuddles. He likes to snuggle next to you when you're lying in bed. He will place his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your waist. He also loves it when you stroke his hair until he falls sound asleep. He prefers to be the little spoon but if you want he will be the big spoon and he will cover you and put his arms on your stomach like a big bear (since he is taller).

Adam really appreciates that you listen to him and pay attention without judging him especially when it comes to talking about his mother. He still feels somewhat guilty and responsible for what he happened to his mom so he seeks to vent to you and for you to comfort him. That's why Adam is also very overprotective, he doesn't want anyone to suffer or have the same fate as his mother. He couldn't bear the thought that someone was hurt because of him.

NSFW

Adam doesn't understand much about sex. He knows what he is but has never experienced it. In fact, for him it is a simple act done to conceive children. He didn't know he could have sex for pleasure until it was explained to him. Yet it's hard for Adam to understand why something like this would be satisfying.

As I mentioned before Adam had never felt a need to experience sex but the more time he spent with you a burning and primal sensation took over him. A sensation that made him clench his legs and clench his jaw. At first he felt embarrassed by this, he told himself that he should control himself while you are around so as not to scare you. He didn't want to force you to do something you didn't want.

One day Adam couldn't take it anymore and he rushed into your room, opening the door violently and getting on his knees hugging your waist and burying his face in your stomach. He told you that he was worried because he didn't know what was happening to him or how to stop it. "(Y/N) there is something wrong with me, you have to help me." He explained to you that every time he was with you he felt a wild need to touch you and feel your warm skin. You blushed because you knew exactly what was wrong with him. How could you tell him that he was basically horny and probably his raging hormones required him to fornicate with someone?. He looked into your eyes with visible confusion. For him to understand you caressed his cheek, that little touch was enough for Adam to close his eyes with a sigh and melt in your hand like butter in the sun.

You offered to try that experience with Adam but he refused. "No (Y/N) in any way, I will not force you to do something you do not want." Oh but if he knew that you wanted that since you first saw him. His statuesque physique captivated you but his cute and lovable personality was what won your heart. You wanted to teach Adam because everyone said having sex gave you serotonin. You gave him a passionate kiss, the first of many. It was the first time that Adam tasted your lips, they were even softer than he could have imagined. You led him to your bed and sat on his lap. His hands shyly gripped your hips. Each kiss you planted on his jaw and neck made him gasp. Every time you rubbed your ass against his crotch he felt something grow under there but he had no idea what it was. Your hands on his abdomen and shoulders are enough to turn him on. When they were both ready they began to undress.

When he took off his pants, he was surprised to see that his penis was erect. Was it because of that tingling he felt in his pants? "It's normal" you said smiling. You led Adam into your entrance. He was afraid of hurting you but you told him it was okay for him to hold his grip on your thighs and squeeze them if he wanted. Adam nailed his fingers into your fleshy skin, yet it was soft and delicate. You leaned Adam's body towards yours and now with your mouth in his ear and his head on your neck your hot breath made him feel feverish, your moans filled his head and his grunts matched yours.

Your nails scratching on his back made him feel an electric shock throughout his body. They were about to reach the climax but he didn't know what to do, he just felt that his penis hardened and your walls tightened more around him. "(Y/N)?" You look at him panting. "I think-.." he couldn't finish the sentence because fluid shot out and filled you. He got scared thinking that he had done something wrong but when he saw that you weren't upset and that you had also released that fluid, he calmed down. Catching your breath, you explained that they had reached orgasm. Adam felt better, he had never experienced anything like this and now understand why everyone said he made you feel good. That burning sensation had disappeared to give rise to the relief. They stayed talking and I explained to him that sometimes the people did a second round. He was enthusiastic and proposed to try it, in his innocent mind he believed that something so pleasant should be done more often. Laughing, you told him that people didn't have as much resistance as he did and they ended up exhausted. Then they practiced aftercare, both of you holding each other Adam behind you nuzzling your back with his nose and you holding your hands in front of your chest massaging them. It could be said that Adam was now more expert

But when they were apart whether on missions or whatever, Adam had a hard time containing his primal urges. He missed your touch on his abdomen or the way he called out his name. So you also showed him that he could give himself pleasure whenever he wants. At first you showed him how, wrapping his hand around his member and rubbing it up and down. Adam had never had that explained to him and he wondered why, it was almost as good as having sex with another person. Now every time he's away from you by himself, practice what you taught him with your face in his thoughts.

I see Adam as a sub but he could also be a soft dom. He prefers that you be on top of him riding him and teaching him everything you know how to do. On the other hand, if he is the dom he will be as soft as he can be and will constantly ask you if you feel good, if you want to continue or if he is hurting you.

What does Adam like most about you? Your kisses. Your mouth running over his sculpted body is enough to have him on his knees begging to touch your body. Your warm lips or your small bites will drive him crazy wanting for more. And what is Adam's favorite part of your body? It is a tricky question because Adam loves your whole body but I think it would be your abdomen and a little below it without reaching your privacy. He has learned what your weak points are to make you squirm as you desperately pull at his scalp.

Finally, it was clear that Adam loves to learn and try new things, but as long as it is something that does not involve harming yourself. So he doesn't really like the idea of ​​bondage, handcuffs, hot wax, etc. But he could try it for you if you insist. Also, you would tell him that if it is practiced properly, it is not risky or dangerous. Even so, at the slightest sign that you don't feel comfortable, he will stop.

[anakinsgirlfriendreal]

Parts Of the Truth

masterlist

Chapter Eleven

Warnings: mature language, reader had a bit of a tumultuous childhood, reader is actually insane(not at all projecting). I wrote this chapter in light spirits to undo the wrong I did to you all the last time, I'm sorry😔. Also maybe some spelling errors (let's not talk about how I never ever proof read ever, just keep that to yourself)

Growing up you were always loved as a child, between your sister and yourself you weren't afraid to say that you were more favoured. You weren't rich at all but your mother always made sure you had everything you wanted. You'd say your life was perfect up until your father left. He had come home one night, drunk and heated, announcing that he was leaving your mother.

"I met someone else and I love her" he had said. You were young then, but the memory never left you. You remembered how torn up and shattered your mother was. You remembered how your sister lost her way after that, following friends and throwing her life away. How you'd sleep near your mom and listen to her soft crying. You also remembered she had told you to never be the woman to cause another woman such pain because 'you lose 'em how you get 'em.'

You recalled how some woman did to your family exactly what you did to Padme. You remembered how a few years later your mother had seen her in a grocery store, a little girl at her side and the ring your father took from your mother's finger and gave to her, nowhere in sight because he had done it again, he had found someone 'better' and she had lost him just how she got him.

In a way, you found it funny. The way history repeated itself was laughable, if you didn't laugh you'd for sure cry. You sat in the tub, back pressed to his chest as he kissed your shoulders, massaging your sides. You think back to the night he had told you he was leaving his wife. He was leaving her for you, or so he'd had you believe. The way he confessed his love for you and begged to be with you had you convinced even though you rejected him at the time you knew what you wanted. The way he had been focused on being nothing short of an excellent father to Darcy recently, had you believing that he was being honest. You'd convinced yourself- no lied to yourself that he only wanted you, a person simply couldn't make up the things he had told you. And yet as you contemplate the text on his phone you realized that you weren't special, mother of his child or not, you were another notch in his belt. A play thing that he would get tired of and trade for a newer model.

He nudges your shoulder, the water around you splashing slightly, "You okay? You spaced out on me."

You nodded, smiling as he washed the soap from your back.

You laid on your side, ears perked up as you listened to the faint sounds of his movement downstairs. He was making some quick snack, it was apparently a thing for men to get extremely hungry after sex. So once he'd helped you bathe and got you set and comfortable in bed he went to look after his own post-sex needs. As you laid there your mind was quieter than usual, focused on one train of thought instead of the fifty different tracks it normally ran. You couldn't believe your own stupidity, your mother always told you "No matter how many times a man says he will, he probably won't leave his wife and if he does, he'll eventually leave you too, you lose 'em how you get 'em."

You won't say you didn't expect this, subconsciously you probably did you just didn't expect it so soon. I mean literally minutes after you decide to be with him, now without the barriers of his marriage? Why did Padme have to be right.

His ringtone pierces the air and ceases when he answers, you creep closer to the bedroom door, opening it just enough so you can hear what he was saying.

"No she doesn't know" his voice is faint but you can make it out well.

"Kate, would you just trust that I know what I'm doing. I'll see you Friday. I love you too."

Your heart drops, jumping back into bed when you hear his footsteps ascend the stairs. Damn Kate, who is this Kate anyway, was he cheating on both you and Padme with Kate before, and now he's just cheating on you? Who the fuck is Kate?

You picked your own brain for answers, nobody at the company went by Kate that you knew, there were some Katherine's but they went by Kat you were pretty sure. He had no business associates nor business associates' wives who went by Kate, so who the hell is Kate? Where did she come from, and why was she ruining a relationship that you decided to properly commence an hour ago. You were so deep in thought now you hadn't even realized he was talking to you.

"Y/n? Seriously what's going on" he sat up, "Are you having second thoughts about this?"

Maybe, who's Kate?

"Look I know Friday's-"

Your brows furrow, Friday? As in 'our getaway' Friday?

"Did you say something about Friday?" You ask, lost.

He looked at you confused now, "Yes. Did you hear anything I just said?"

When he's met with silence he sighs, "what's the matter with you?"

"Why don't you ask Kate?" You roll over, turning your back to him.

"What?" He turns you over to face him again, and you just get out of bed.

"Did you forget? Should I jog your memory? 'Got Friday off, extra day for our getaway' winky face" you closed an eye and then scowled again.

"oh, I can explain that-"

"I'm sure you can, because you always have an explanation for everything. How do you keep up with your lies oh my God" you begin to rummage through your closet, putting on jeans, why you were preparing to leave your own house? You had no idea but you were too heated right now.

"Kate's my-"

You cut him off before he has time to lie again, "Your what? Your second side chick or is it third, I lost count since you sleep with half the fucking city! Oh don't tell me she has a kid for you too, you really just sow your royal oats anywhere, you bastard. You know Padme really dodged a bullet, cause you're such an ass. She's lucky she couldn't have kids because I can't believe that I have to know you FOREVER" your voice raised, you zipped your boots and pulled on your coat prepared to slam the door in his face but he stops you by holding you still.

"sister" he says.

"what?"

"Kate. She's my sister" he says again.

You feel so embarrassed, you had over thought yourself into pure insanity, it's official. You think for a moment, which you probably shouldn't be allowed to do ever again.

"You're lying. What sister texts her brother in that tone?"

"Tone? Texts have tones?" He laughs at you, "You're insane."

"I am not insane. Sisters don't text their brothers with that winky face emoji okay. That's what I text you when I send a pic of my lingerie or when we're gonna have sex later or something so I am not crazy. You're just a liar"

He sighs, he unlocks his phone, going into Kate's chat and handing it to you. You moved over to sit on the bed, scrolling as far back as you were able to.

"She's not my 'side chick' she's my sister" he says.

You scroll through the texts, your jaw hung slightly loose as you read through them. "Oh, someone really needs to teach this girl how to text, 'Dad's been riding her' winky face. Who even says that?"

He sits next you on the bed, "She's...odd."

You look at him, and you have to laugh at yourself, "Ani, I'm so sorry" you hugged him, "What's Friday?"

"Well, Thanksgiving's on Thursday but we're all working people, so everyone decided that we'd go up to my family's lake house for the weekend and celebrate then, and I thought it would be a good time for you to meet them."

You felt terrible, count on yourself to jump to conclusions.

"I thought since you and I were actually gonna do this thing for real, you know without me being married to someone else and all, it was time for you and Darcy to meet them. My mom's been going insane about having a grandchild and never meeting her" he continues.

"That's so sweet, well now I feel terrible. It's just, Padme said that if you cheated on her then you'll cheat on me too because it's a hard habit to break, and I just felt so stupid, when I saw that text I didn't think- I'm sorry."

He brushes stray hair from your face, "That marriage was a mistake. I told you that. Look I hate what I did to Padme...all those times but, she wasn't the one I wanted, you are. I remember when you first started working for me, and you sat in on one of my meetings. You were wearing slacks and a knitted sweater cause you said it went best with your shoes, and you called an engineer pretentious and asked if a kid drew his plan-"

"Oh Aaron, he fucking hates me" you chuckle.

"Yeah, he still asks if I'm gonna fire you soon. I remember because I knew in that moment, that you were who I wanted" he finished.

"what? You decided in that moment? When I wearing a sweater my mom made with her cat on it and slacks?" You laugh.

He nods, "I just knew. I knew everyday for a year until I asked you out and then you finally said yes" he takes your hand, "You're stubborn and headstrong, you jump to conclusions better than an Olympic athlete, you're dramatic and I want it all. You, your fifty personalities and our Darcy."

You shove his shoulder, trying to contain your blush, you were a grown woman and he had you blushing like a school girl. "It's actually fifty-one"

"But you know, uh given all the things you said earlier, I'm kinda having some doubts" he looks at you with a serious and unreadable expression.

Your face drops, until he breaks into a smile, "Maybe you can change my mind again if you get out of all these clothes" he gestures to your fully dressed figure. You totally forgot you were gonna storm out of your own place earlier just to make a point.

"Oh? Perhaps Mr. Skywalker would like a dance?" You stand pushing him back onto the bed.

"I'll make it rain baby" he kisses your lips.

Let's pretend he has living family members, because anything can happen in fanfiction!!😘

[zoshkawrites]

yuzuha comforting you after a breakup

tw: angst, english is not my native language, not edited

small note: dedicated to my best friend. sometimes i love you more than myself.

"i bought this red lipstick for a man i had a crush on, but in the end, I liked the lipstick more than him" yuzuha handed you the lipstick so you could see it better.

you were in your house, showing each other your makeup. ot was the blonde's idea and olan of her goal to distract you from what had just happened. until a minute before, she had been talking about her expensive mascara, subconsciously trying to tell you, "your mascara is more important than the man who broke your heart." you had to be honest with yourself for once; you were eternally grateful that your best friend was comforting you at this late hour. how ironic life was; she introduced you to him, she comforted you about your breakup. maybe this was the true friendship that seemed to exist in the pages of books, in the cool songs of teenage singers.

"yes, it's beautiful," you already felt your tears drying up.

"do you want to try it on?" she asked, and before you could answer, Yuzuha was already rummaging through your closet to hand you the mirror. this girl not only knew you and what could comfort your heart, but also your belongings and where they were.

you grabbed the mirror and put some of the red lipstick on your lips, not caring if you were overlining.

"hey!" she immediately grabbed the mirror out of your hand, "try to apply it better!"

'is it so hard for her to realize that she should feel beautiful?' the blonde thought and started to apply the lipstick on your lips.

"so..." she began to explain, grabbing your chin with one hand and applying the product with the other. "don't tell me you forgot how to put on makeup because that jerk wouldn't let you use makeup."

"i just don't think I'm in the mood to wear makeup right now," you admitted, not expecting any comment in return. it was as if you surrendered to autoplay, responding to a void like a robot.

yuzuha put the lipstick down; now your lips were as rosy as an apple and the redness of your eyes had begun to disappear. without needing any reason you felt better.

"just tell me, is it worth crying over things you can't change?" the blonde said, a motherly instinct in her voice, as if she were comforting not a friend, but her child.

"m-maybe I'm crying..." you tried to cover your stutter and reached for the mirror, "because I can't change things."

you looked in the mirror and liked the way her lipstick looked on your lips. like a gentle kiss a mother would give after telling a long fairy tale.

"if you couldn't change it, then it wasn't that much important!" she scolded you, wondering what else to show, so she can distract you.

yuzuha sighed and rested her head on her hands, her eyes glued to the floor.

"it is enough that you tried to change things, and that you believed it would happen. now stop playing with fate. Don't fight with it. let your heart and mind rest. they need it, don't they?"

the blonde had acted like that before; as if she cared about your battles and your fears as much as you did. but since when could she say such words that could embrace your heart?

apparently, friendship is more serious than love. a man may get your attention because of his money, because of his passion, but friendship exists because you both depend on each other.

"that's enough..." she muttered and looked at you. you didn't show it, but you were still sobbing, and the tears seemed to eat away your eyes.

you remembered one of your old pictures when you were a little girl; holding a beautiful bouquet for march 8th and a bright smile was on your face. when you thought of that picture, you wanted to cry and scream even more. did the girl in the picture deserve it? was it your fault that that girl no longer smiled?

just as you were about to burst into another bitter cry that was making your head ache, you felt warm hands on your back. the one side of your cheek was touched by yuzuha's curls; before you realized it, you were already in her embrace.

and it felt beautiful.

it was like you were a little bird learning to fly. and after a long lesson on a summer day, you were back in your cozy nest with your mother and father.

perhaps there was no point in holding back the tears. if your soul wanted to cry, there was no point in stopping your body.

"give your inner self the relief it needs more than this man," you remembered your best friend's words and began to cry peacefully in her arms.

the pain was still there, you could still feel the agony, but it was different when you shared it. it made you feel light for no reason at all.

"you know," the blonde began, her hands on your back, sending pleasant shivers down your entire spine, "if you need a shoulder, I am here. and remember, when a loved one touches your shoulder, you don't feel it as burden, you feel it as warmth."

maybe our soulmates weren't our romantic partners. maybe our soulmates were our best friends.

[newobsessioneveryweek]

Your headcanons are so cute!!!! 🥺🥺 (also about their friends thinking they're unhealthy, if Annabeth can judo-flip Percy and no one bats an eye, I think Sherman and Connor could probably get away with jokingly trash-talking eachother XD)

Sherman's love language being acts of service is so real btw. He'd probably try to do pushups with Connor on his back if Connor didn't completely refuse, because atleast one of them is smart enough to know that'd break Sherman's back 😭

(also.. you mentioned backstories?!?! my ears are open!! 👀👀)

Prev

I agree! How come Annabeth gets to break her boyfriend's spine on a whim but Sherman can't call Connor a loser?

Btw, the nature of their pet names are totally along that line. Sherman calls Connor loser and Connor calls him asshole. They've barely even dipped a toe into sweetie and honey cakes or the other sweet ones unless they're being ironic.

Sherman called Connor "dear" for the first time and Connor called him an idiot and told him to stop.

Connor: What's this 'dear' bullshit? It's fine when other people do it, but it just sounds weird coming from you. *shudders*

Sherman: then what the fuck do you want me to call you, dumbass?!

Connor: 'dumbass' is fine, just stick to the fucking formula!

Now they just do it to make their friends uncomfortable :]

Now...

You asked about their backstories...

You don't know what you've just unleashed. I know I'm the one who instigated this but I am also insane and should never be trusted with your mental wellbeing.

I made it very angsty for both of them

Here we go! Strap in!

Sherman’s backstory

⚠️⚠️Trigger Warning For Physical And Verbal Abuse And Violence⚠️⚠️ I've highlighted the triggering parts in red

So Sherman’s mother wasn't anything like the woman you'd expect the god of war to fall in love with. She was gentle and nurturing, and just all-around a non-confrontational person. But she still had a warrior’s spirit and fought for Sherman in other ways.

When Sherman was three his mother married a very well-off man who later abused her. Sherman didn’t know. His mother (her name is Bella) sometimes had bruises on her arms or face but she always said she fell or had some other accident.

When Sherman was seven and came home from school he heard his step-father shouting and peaked in through a window to find him yelling and hitting his mom. He got scared and hid behind the house until his father left in a huff (presumably to a bar). He came inside and saw his mother crying. When she saw him she wiped her tears and pretended nothing happened. Sherman didn’t say anything.

His step-father was never the most affectionate man but he wasn’t aggressive towards Sherman when he was growing up. But one evening a few years later Sherman woke up and heard crashing sounds and breaking glass downstairs. There was yelling too. He went downstairs to investigate and found his stepfather attacking his mother. His mother was bleeding from her head. His stepfather was swinging a bottle at her.

Sherman ran into the room to try and stop him. He yanked at his arm and started punching him but his father just turned and started hitting him instead, telling him that he’s useless and stupid and he’ll never amount to anything. At this point he’s kicking him in the stomach while he’s lying on the floor. When his mother recovers enough to stand she attacks him. She tells him to never touch her child again and starts beating at his back. He knocks her to the ground again and starts kicking her. Sherman panics and picks up a shard of a broken vase. He stabs his step-father in the leg.

When he falls down Sherman stabs him in the back of his neck and his shoulders. He dies. His mother is shocked. They hear sirens approaching. Apparently the neighbours had called the police. His mother tells Sherman to run, that she’ll tell the police that it was her that killed him. Sherman refuses but his mother’s insistence forces him to leave. She tells him how much she loves him and that they’ll see each other again soon. He spends a month on the streets before a satyr finds him and takes him to camp.

(He tells Connor that his mother was the bravest person he’s ever known.)

Connor’s backstory

⚠️⚠️ Trigger Warning For Parental Neglect, Self-Harm, Abuse, And Addiction⚠️⚠️

Connor’s mother, Ruelle, used to be an international interpreter/polyglot. She met Hermes at a business conference and they hit it off. When Travis was born she loved him like any mother would love their child. They moved to Virginia when she was pregnant with Connor and made friends with Julia and Marcus who were restaurant owners in town. They would always come around to make sure Ruelle was settled in properly and was taking care of herself and the baby. They would pick up Travis for play dates to give her space and alone time. When Connor was born everything was great for the first two weeks but then Julia started to get worried about Ruelle.

She would come over and Connor would be lying on the floor crying while Ruelle just smoked a cigarette in the kitchen. Julia checked on Connor and angrily asked Ruelle if she was even paying attention to Connor’s needs. Ruelle didn’t answer. Julia asked where Travis was. Ruelle said he was playing upstairs.

Julia insisted Ruelle go see a therapist. She refused and told Julia to mind her own business and worry about her own nephews. Julia said she couldn’t let these children suffer. Ruelle told her to just take them then. Julia did.

Travis and Connor stayed with Julia and Marcus for about two weeks before Ruelle called the police on her and told her that she kidnapped her children. Julia told the police that Ruelle was just confused and said she would return them to her care. She did so reluctantly. Julia and Marcus were worried. They taught Travis how to make baby formula and feed it to Connor just in case Ruelle wasn’t feeding them. They didn’t want to call child services because they wanted to give Ruelle a chance. She never went to therapy though and her mental state kept deteriorating.

Eventually after two months, upon Julia’s tearful insistence, Ruelle, also tearful, agreed to try therapy and started taking better care of Connor. However, on Connor’s first birthday both her parents died in a plane crash to visit her and she spiralled into a depression. She had the presence of mind to use the inheritance she received to pay off her mortgage but started neglecting the children. When Travis started going to kindergarten he had an excuse to leave the house and Julia could teach him to take care of Connor because Ruelle wouldn’t allow her near her house and would invite Travis over to her house to eat before going back home.

When Connor was two she married a man named John and together they spent their lives getting high and avoiding their responsibilities. John frequently beat Ruelle and went out to clubs and bars and partied and got drunk and cheated on her and all that jazz and because her life was so utterly shit she took out all her frustrations on her children. She would beat them, lock them in their room without food, force them to eat expired food and accuse them of trying to make her look bad if they didn't, and lock them out of the house at night.

Sometimes they would spend the night at Julia and Marcus but when they came back in the morning and Ruelle found out where they were she would go off at them and beat them up. John would just watch and not care because they were nothing to him. Once, when Connor was five, she broke his arm and didn’t take him to the hospital. She locked them in their room instead. When they woke up Connor’s arm was healed. At the time they didn’t know Hermes healed it while they were asleep.

⚠️⚠️Extra Trigger Warning For Self Harm⚠️⚠️

Their mother’s depression was still in full swing and she used to cut herself often. Connor and Travis would both walk in on her doing it and she would just look at them and say that they did this to her.

When Connor was turning six they ran away from home. They lived on the street for three years and were constantly chased by monsters and met shady people all the time. When Connor was turning 9, a satyr found them in New York and took them to camp.

(Connor hates his birthday because every year his mother would blame him and his brother for her life being so shitty because her parents died on their way to visit them and see their grandchildren for the first time.)

And that's that! Lemme know if you ever want me to reveal more stuff from my mind fic! Because I would love to :3🩷

[andysdrafts]

OK, so second try because Tumblr apparently hates me (get in line fr)

imma rant about characters, yes in plural because you asked and I don't know when to stop yapping

BTW, this is an answer to @queenpiranhadon because Tumblr erased the ask when I tried to post the first attempt 😒

(Also, I'm sorry if there's any grammar mistakes in here, English isn't my first language)

First and foremost, Portgas D. Ace, my boy, there will never be a day when I don't think about him and cry my soul out. Ace is a character that was doomed from the start, he never had a chance to a normal life, never. He was doomed and tied by the actions of other people and forced to live with them as if they were his own. He was persecuted before he was even born. He was a victim of the circumstances he was brought in. Garp took him in only to leave him with a group of bandits who later on threw him to the forest to learn to fend for himself. Ace only knew how to fight, kick and scowl until the age of ten, completely isolated with only the figure of an absent grandpa and a group of bandits that, while not exactly violent, were still bandits.

Now, I'm not saying Garp or Dadan and the bandits didn't love Ace, because they did, but not in the way Ace needed to be loved. Ace was a troubled boy, it ran in his veins and the hatred and anger came to him as natural as breathing. He hated himself for being born, hated his existence and it rot away his soul, even as a child. He met Luffy and Sabo, and while the other two didn't make all of his problems go away, they did help Ace soften up and understand that not everything shall be felt through violence and bloody hands. He still hated himself, but he learned how to socialise to some extent and felt care for others, even if he didn't feel himself cared for or worthy of said affection.

Then Sabo died, and Ace HAD to understand that he couldn't exactly be rude, not to the people he cared about, so he softened a bit more as he officially took on the role of big brother to Luffy, no longer seeing him as a complete nuisance but as someone he wanted to protect and care for, hence why he went down to town when Luffy got injured to look (steal) medicine. Both of them grew up and Ace set sail to the Ocean searching for his own adventure, something that he could call HIS rather than something that would keep him tied to his father and the damned blood he hated. He wanted to be himself, desperate to be out of the shadow of Roger, something that would make him forget, even for a moment, that he was such a hated person across the world. He met Whitebeard and the Whitebeard pirates, and he found himself a home, a home where he was loved, cared for and appreciated no matter what he did or who he was. He found a real father in Whitebeard, someone who did not care how many times Ace retaliated and fought, someone who loved Ace the way Ace needed to be loved. And that same love sent Ace back to the dark place he came from.

He loved Whitebeard as his own father, and he couldn't tolerate the disrespect or disloyalty towards him because he felt like he owned something in exchange for being loved. He was always self sabotaging himself, with his hatred for himself and the situation he was in, the people who hated him, the whole world. He was never taught how to keep something good of his, and it's no surprise to me he relapsed into his own, personal pit of misery. He lived his life thinking he wasn't worth more than dirt due to who he came from, that he wasn't loved and even if he was, he still owed something in return for his cursed existence. I don't think he regrets dying in favour of saving Luffy, because he loved Luffy with his whole existence, what he did regret was never noticing how much he was loved and cared for until he died. That he had to die for him to see that he was appreciated and that he would be missed if he suddenly disappeared, that someone cared enough for him to go and declare war just to have him back, to have him safe.

Ace never stood a chance at having something good of his own, a normal life, because all he ever knew until his death was violence and his own self hatred that was engraved in his brain and clung to him like a second skin. Because he wasn't just made to show Luffy he wasn't ready for the hardships of the New World, but also to show dehumanising we can be with ourselves, and how more often than not we sabotage ourselves until we can't anymore, until we reach our ends and until no one can actually save us. No matter how much one person is loved, it won't matter in the end if said person can't see the love for them.

Second: Sanemi Shinazugawa. I've had the biggest obsession with this man and the longer I think of him the more I pick up on how traumatised he is. Again, another child victim of the circumstances he was raised and brought in. His father an abuser and his mother a lovely woman who loved her children over everything. Both of them left something to Sanemi before they passed, Shizu the love for his family, the immense heart the boy has even if he keeps it under wraps and Kyogo the rage, anger and hatred. Both of them coexist within Sanemi, clashing with the other and yet, complementing the other like a puzzle.

I always found it interesting because Sanemi has equal parts of both love and hatred to give, the same amount, like he's fifty-fifty. Growing up in an abusive home, whether it's emotional, physical or mental, destroys in hundreds of ways. Not only did Sanemi have to see his younger siblings and mother getting punched, kicked, or pushed around in ways that most definitely left bruises, but also, he most likely endured it as well. I have absolutely no doubt that he, in countless times just like his mom, put himself in the way of his father. I know my boy would've rather a zillion times be in the end of his father's anger than have any of his younger siblings or mother to get the harsh treatment.

He grew up with anger, and desperation later on when Kyogo died and Shizu had to work day and night without sleep, hence why he self imposed the role of the sole provider for the family and TRIED. He was the oldest son, and there's no way you can't tell me he didn't feel responsible for both his mom and younger siblings, because in reality, being in situations like that make you worried sick. The money sometimes isn't enough and Sanemi was painfully aware of that. So he took it upon himself to be the best caretaker and protector his family could have.

But then Shizu was turned against her will and killed her children, permanently scarring both Genya and Sanemi physically, mentally and emotionally. And none of them understood what actually happened until later on, which makes the guilt even worse for both of them. Genya called him a murderer without knowing Sanemi was trying to protect him and Sanemi killed his own mother because he couldn't protect her, and by defect, he couldn't protect his younger siblings either. It was so traumatising he lost the ability to see colours. So he pushed away Genya, now filled with anger, regret and guilt, over not being able to protect and care for his family like he said he would. I personally think that, before he joined the Corps, when he started killing demons on his own, it was a projection of his guilt, trying to make up for what he couldn't do for his family, which in the end may have hurt him more because he saved countless of people, but the nagging thought at the back of his head was still there, he didn't saved his family, he could do it for others but not for those he cared for.

Then he joined the Corps, met Masachika and lost him too. And it hurt, because the guilt and the anger just kept growing inside him, why couldn't he save the people he cared for? The feeling of inadequacy must've made him company for a while, at least for some time, but that only served as fuel for his rage, like a flame thrown into a puddle of gasoline.

And he tried so hard and desperately to keep Genya away, keep him safe because he didn't want his younger brother, his only family, to dig an early grave and die, in what could be a painful and gorey death.

Did he do it in the worst way he could've possibly done? Yes. Sanemi had the purest intentions towards Genya, but he didn't know how to properly put them in action. So he pushed and pushed and pushed, but a cord that is tensed too much always ends up breaking, and so, when Genya died, all of Sanemi's efforts seemed futile. Plus, the realisation that he had messed up, that he could've gone and treated the situation with more delicacy, without violence and maybe, just maybe, Genya would be alive, thriving and he would've kept a good relationship with his younger brother.

The realisation of what he had done hit him like a thousand bricks and after the damage was done, only adding to the burden in his heart. He didn't have a body to bury, only Genya's belongings, but it still was an empty grave. And it hurt, knowing things could've been different if only he had taken a different route.

Third: Nico Robin. Now, my beautiful queen also broke my soul until I cried and begged for a stop. Robin is also a child born and moulded by yet again, the decision of third parties that ended up affecting the environment where she grew up.

Her mother, an archeologist with big dreams that left her in the care of close relatives, but it ended up backfiring because even if Robin's aunt wasn´t physically abusive, she was still neglectful with Robin's emotional needs and proper love and care.

However, Robin did had a glimpse of what actual happiness and acceptance was with the other archaeologists in Ohara, which is why her story is even more heartbreaking to me, because even if Robin faced hardships like the lack of a proper mother figure and proper care from the people that were supposed to lover, she found a home in the other archeologists in the island, she was happy in her own little way even with the other cons in her situation. And meeting Jaguar D. Saul only heightened her happiness, like when he taught her how to laugh despite the harshness of the situation.

But every good thing Robin had was snatched away from her in the blink of an eye.

She had to witness a genocide, deal with the guilt of being the only one alive, fight for her life and get used to the violent environment she had been thrown into, while being alone, knowing everyone was against her. She had to learn how to defend herself, learn how to be selfish and understand that, one wrong move and she'll have a blade against her neck. She understood it very quickly, it was either she was killed or she killed. She was constantly walking on eggshells, covering her back and faking personalities one after another to survive, barely doing so while she tried to reach her dream, desperately so.

Eventually, she gave up on her own life, almost throwing away her dream before she was saved. The Strawhats for Robin were salvation, like a warm blanket in the freezing winter, but she didn't feel worthy of it and tried to distance herself from them to protect them.

Robin is very similar to Ace, both are prone to self sabotaging tendencies and full of hatred or despair in their souls, both of them understanding that they were loved until the very end. The difference is, Robin got the chance to cling to it, Ace didn't. They're parallels, only differentiating from the other because one DID got the message in time. It's the line between who gets saved from the dark hole you were found in in time.

Robin understood the value of her life in time, just enough for her to be able to turn back and decide that she wanted to live, that living was something worthy.

Fourth: Bakugou Katsuki. Now, Katsuki is my biggest hear me out ever. The first time I watched MHA, I couldn't stand him at all. He was the reason I stopped reading the Manga and why I stopped watching the anime. I couldn't even fathom the idea of having to see him even for a second.

But he fooled me, like he fooled everyone else around him and some other readers. The second time I watched MHA because it bugged me leaving it midway, I noticed he's a complex character in reality.

His reasonings weren't petty anymore and suddenly, he gained that something that just caught my eye, and I just found myself analysing every single little thing he did or said. To the first interactions he had with Izuku when they were children, his start at U.A, his reactions, everything. And I noticed it, he's the most fucking complex character I've ever seen or read of.

The more I knew, the more I liked him, because he was incredibly real and relatable. Katsuki is a character you either hate it or love it, it's everything or nothing, and to understand him, you HAVE to pay attention to even the minor detail because you blink and you miss what he actually meant or wanted.

I was having a field day the more I watched him, truly. Katsuki is intense, in every sense of the word, he goes all out or he doesn't do it, because he doesn't conform to the rules of society or what is expected of him. He follows his own rules and his own expectations.

Step by step he built himself into what he wanted to be, with a certain image of himself that he had according to the people he had grown up with and how they treated him.

But all that image was thrown down the drain the moment he steps into U.A, because not only is Izuku there, who he thought was less, but also, he realises, he might not be the best of the best as he had believed all his life to that point. It hit him like a truck, like cold water falling on you out of nowhere.

And it hurt him, it was gut wrenching to him, it destroyed him from the very inside of his soul and left a bitter taste in his tongue, to the point he was having an anxiety attack during class after Momo pointed out what he did wrong during the bomb exercise.

He acts like he is the best, and believes it to some point, and yet, at the same time, he doesn't feel worthy and enough.

It's complex and raw because it's relatable. It's real because he makes mistake after mistake, he's crude and brash and his personality sucks to some extent the longer he interacts with classmates, teachers and people.

Everything in his screams intensity, to his thoughts, to his words and even the way he stands. And his character development is MASSIVE.

It may not look like it, but, for people who are like him, baby steps feel like a cool breeze after being in a sauna. He didn't show it, but he was drowning in his own mind and feelings after All Might's retirement.

It surprised me, took me by surprise the way he was crying in the episode where he fights Izuku. It was overwhelming to me, he was overwhelmed himself, and the way he portrays his emotions in that moment, how he lets them out and shows a part of himself that he doesn't show, his vulnerable side, the real thoughts and emotions he had inside of him, it was beautiful.

Beautiful because you know he was actually human, that he actually understood that he was wrong, that he had been making mistakes by pushing everyone around and how, just like everyone else, he tended to overthink.

And while acknowledgment seems stupid and shallow to some, acknowledgment is the biggest step a person can make to be better, to admit you're or have been an awful person, but you acknowledge it to move forward and make a change.

And he changed! Little by little, you can see and notice how he starts becoming a better version of himself. And while he keeps that part of himself that makes him him, he also starts to show a part of that raw, soft personality he had inside him, hidden deep in his soul under wraps.

It's amazing watching him change and grow, to the point his looks even turn softer, more smother, less harsh and more accessible.

Katsuki is real because we all make mistakes, and he shows that we can always start over, apologise and change. Because even if he couldn't change the past, as much as he wanted to, he wants to make the future better, he wants to be better. He puts in the effort, it's constant and he tries hard.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, I'll proceed to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the month 😩

[camillathe6th]

Fanfic Writer Questions

@askweisswolf tagged me, thank youuuuu for thinking of me ♡

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Huh, 12 apparently? A lot of them are shorts and gifts, though.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

66,495???? When did THAT happen (I have never opened the statistics tab before can you tell)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly and forever Fallen Hero my beloved, but I have one (1) foray into Baldur's Gate 3.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hmmm, my "main" fics really: 1. Splinters (Fallen Hero, Una and Ortega's relationship's turning points) 2. Dialogue Box (Fallen Hero, people having conversations) 3. Hopefully, No Biting (I can't believe this is in the top three JKLHGLKHGLH. Probably the oral sex helped.) 4. Hauntings (Fallen Hero, little mindfucks and experimental chapters) 5. The Heist, a three-part gift about Hollow Ground and @kittlesandbugs Sidestep, Riley. This one was a passion project, very happy to find it (surprisingly) in the top 5.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Usually, yes, if I can't reply directly to the commenter on another platform! If people are lovely enough to take the time to write, you know... Right back at them.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

No endings to my fics, really, but the angstiest as a rule is Hauntings.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

No endings to my fics, really, but I think my happiest / sweetest / peacefullest might be one of my recent ones--Shipname: Burnt to the Ground (it's sex, but not sad babygirl sex, you get me?)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No.......... But if you want to go and hate on Hollow Ground when they appear in my fic please be my guest lads I'm right there with you.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not sure my sex scenes count as smut considering I'm firmly rooted in the suggestive rather than explicit territory. I write metaphors for fucking, more like.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really! I'm such a one-trick pony man, all my money's on Los Diablos.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Hmmm.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not! I do like to fuck around with language and I have translated part of my fics once or twice and then back again just to throw a punch into the English and its pacing though. And I used to translate fics out loud for my friends who couldn't read English when I was, like, a teen.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Started to, didn't finish, but the idea's there somewhere—co-writing with @astarien is the heights of existence obviously.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

... Chargestep. I guess. I guess they're alright. Whatever.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

If I want to finish a work I do—but there's nothing I'm gunning to end yet, except for shorts, which I finish in one-go.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hm, I don't really know... I enjoy dialogue, action scenes, and fucking up pace, musicality, analogy, words and format so that language says more than it usually does, or shows more than it usually does—goes further than it wants to go if you don't give it a shake—and makes you FEEL. That's what's in my brain when I write.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fucking... plot. Logical pathways. Lore. I do not have a brain.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Love it! I gesture at it but keep it in English when I don't know the language (too scared of fucking it up, and not enough control over tone / nuances / connotations), but if I do know the language then absolutely.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

In my little notebooks when I was 8? A French Child Fantasy book I loved. But the only fandom I've written seriously for is FHR.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

My darling, though not my easiest, is Splinters. The hard-hitting writing moments are compiled there, I usually break out of a chapter a little brain-weird and all rabbit-hearted, it's always a blast to get to work on it.

Annnnd I'll tag @astarien, @kittlesandbugs, @ejunkiet, @impossible-rat-babies, @rab-bitly, @witchfall, @silvery-bluish, @ladyshivs, and anyone who feels like it!

[diceydeals]

Hearing and History

12th April 2023

So, I recently found out that my level of hearing is a lot lower than I thought it was and probably always has been.

What does this mean? Basically I probably would've benefited from hearing aids and learning sign language as a child rather than relying on self-taught lip-reading, guesswork, and asking people to repeat themselves/be patient.

Let me tell you, people are not always good at being patient.

I have very mixed feelings about this. Listening is very tiring, and I have always said this! I couldn't do mental maths questions because they were on a tape recording. Ditto language listening and oral exams, which I kept failing at school. French was nearly impossible for me because I cannot hear the words or make sense of the month movements. Thank gd for Spanish!

I didn't have a hearing test until I was in secondary school. That policy has changed now in the NHS so hearing loss is picked up very soon after birth. Basically, there were a bunch of points in my life when someone could have intervened to give me the tools to navigate the world rather than just let me figure it out.

I am not part of the Deaf community. I don't know anybody my age who is hard of hearing or deaf. My family thought it was 'normal' because my mum, her sister, and my grandad all have hearing loss. I was teased for being deaf while simultaneously nobody taking the implications of my deafness seriously. It was a lose-lose situation. Essentially, it wasn't that I wasn't deaf enough, it was that it didn't effect me obviously enough for anyone to do anything.

Now I have hearing aids, I can hear music, I can hear lyrics. I can hear (although not focus on) multiple conversations. Birds are insanely fucking loud. Projectors and air-conditioning drive me up the wall. My tinnitus is definitely worse, but that may also be a side effect of long covid (apparently that's a thing). It's a wild experience that I'm still getting used to, a year later.

I would still love to learn sign language. But now's not a great time: I'm tired, working and studying full-time, recovering from covid, and generally have shit going on. British Sign Language lessons are expensive in person, but learning online is something I'd rather avoid as I can't concentrate easily. This means more travel, more money, more time, more energy. This means I have to wait.

I wish I could've had the chance to learn when I was first diagnosed.

TLDR; just because you can work to the point of exhaustion to fit the needs of the world, doesn't mean you should have to! You deserve accommodations. The world needs to bend so that people don't break.

[thesunsethour]

welcome back to part 3 of eve procrastinating her final exams by ranking her favourite songs by her favourite artists. today it is The Beatles' turn

(as always i must stress this is my opinion only. but i am also very nosey, so please tell me *your* opinions too)

(i'm ignoring songs in different languages, naked versions, and also any cover songs, so focusing exclusively on anything penned by lennon-mccartney or harrison or starr)

(this took me a week and a half. for context my killers' list took two days and hozier took four hours)

without further ado:

189. Wild Honey Pie (spoiler alert: i'm not a white album fanatic)

188.       Dig It (vibey but odd little song)

187.       Maggie Mae (didn't know for years this was a liverpool folk song)

186.       Only A Northern Song (not weird enough to justify itself)

185.       Revolution 9 (it achieves john's goal. still hate it though)

184.       All Together Now (worse precursor to the frog chorus)

183.       It’s All Too Much (i would like to apologise to yellow submarine)

182.       Flying (criminal that this is so far down actually. i only have myself to blame)

181.       I’ll Get You (bit samey)

180.       Savoy Truffle (i wrote down 'harrison's own muzak')

179.       Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey (wtf john)

178.       Thank You Girl  (harmonica has been utilised better)

177.       Every Little Thing (pretty okay)

176.       You Like Me Too Much (george still in songwriting training)

175.       I Want To Tell You (the beginning of george's 'i don't know' refrain in his songs. keep an ear out)

174.       The Inner Light (SO very george)

173.       Her Majesty (i'm irish so this had to be this low)

172.       You Can’t Do That (great john vocals here tbh)

171.       Honey Pie (you can so clearly hear the music hall inspiration. very paul)

170.       When I Get Home (bit samey but catchy enough)

169.       There’s a Place (better harmonica)

168.       I Need You (lovely harmonies)

167.       Not a Second Time (i always forget this song exists sorry to john lennon)

166.       It’s Only Love (i always think this ones on rubber soul)

165.       I’ll Cry Instead (conversely this is very beatles for sale coded i think!)

164.       Little Child (i am a sucker for the harmonica it has to be said)

163.       You Know My Name (Look Up The Number) (really campy ad-libs. a fan)

162.       I’m a Loser (john's voice is so deep in this one??)

161.       I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party (little foot tapper of a song)

160.       Piggies (george had been reading orwell! good for him)

159.       Don’t Pass Me By (ringo! hello!)

158.       I’ll Be Back (solid enough)

157.       Doctor Robert (one of the earliest examples of 'we will sing a song about a little random man')

156.       If I Needed Someone (solid george effort)

155.       Why Don’t We Do It In The Road (apparently about two monkeys fucking. okay paul)

154.       Baby’s in Black  (clever little lyrics)

153.       It Won’t Be Long (adore the coming home line)

152.       All I’ve Got to Do (sweet enough little thing)

151.       Hold Me Tight (classic paul asking for love. a staple of the genre)

150.       What Goes On (hiiiii Ringo!)

149.       Yer Blues (my notes say 'proto-morrissey-esque, but worse)

148.       Good Night (reminds me of a musical song. also originally thought this was a paul song)

147.       She’s a Woman (really dynamic paul vocals)

146.       What You’re Doing (solid paul job)

145.       No Reply (i cannot think of this song without hearing the bloopers of YOUR FACE)

144.       Happiness Is A Warm Gun (i may get killed for having this so low. reminder that this is only my opinion)

143.       Don’t Bother Me (i *think* this is the first album song that george ever wrote!)

142.       P.S. I Love You (he loves his epistolary songs does Paul)

141.       I’m Just Happy to Dance With You (another solid foot tapper)

140.       Any Time At All (love the piano in this)

139.       I’m So Tired (same)

138.       Birthday (i hate the beginning of this song with a visceral passion. rest is grand)

137.       The Night Before (very '50s)

136.       Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise) (the only bad thing about this song is that it means the album is over)

135.       Another Girl (bitchy little paul song)

134.       Tell Me What You See (song gets better as it goes on i think)

133.       The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill (hello yoko)

132.       Long, Long, Long (reminds me of my sweet lord)

131.       Ask Me Why (real jazzy like)

130.       Rocky Raccoon (i'm not mad on this song but the middle is so catchy it reels me in)

129.       Old Brown Shoe (ringo reference check!)

128.       Revolution 1 (not as good as revolution the single)

127.       Cry Baby Cry (love paul's little jaunty section)

126.       Yes It Is (sexy)

125.       Dig A Pony ("everything has got to be just like you want it toohoohoohoohoohooo"

124.       The Word (reminds me of grease)

123.       Hey Bulldog (some bits of music here remind me of 'Across the Universe')

122.       I’m Looking Through You (GREAT guitar)

121.       Sexy Sadie (can't remember which journalist said that AM's 4 out of 5 has this vibe and YEAH)

120.       I Me Mine (i will always adore the "flowing more freely than wine" lyric. thank you george"

119.       Things We Said Today (paul's so good in this one)

118.       Tell Me Why (catchy bop)

117.       Run For Your Life ("that's the end" SO good)

116.       Good Day Sunshine (nicely jaunty)

115.       Rain (love the instrumentation in this one)

114.       I Will (quintessential mccartney this)

113.       Love You To (making this list and hearing george's improvement as a songwriter was amazing actually)

112.       Octopus’s Garden (bless ringo)

111.       I Feel Fine (SO catchy)

110.       With A Little Help From My Friends (ringo's very best)

109.       Martha My Dear (i'm scared of dogs but i'll let this one go)

108.       Drive My Car (the beeps beeps always annoyed me as a kid)

107.       For You Blue (it is what it says - sweet and lovely)

106.       Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (love the laughter in it)

105.       Good Morning Good Morning (the guitar here is simply too cool for this song. elevates it greatly)

104.       You’re Going To Lose That Girl (beach boys vibes?)

103.       She Said She Said (john and george buddies and pals)

102.       Wait (john and paul's voices go SO well together do you ever get emotional)

101.       Think For Yourself (ANOTHER great foot tapper)

100.       I’m Down (well *somebody* thinks they're elvis)

99.         Misery (just. great structurally)

98.         I Should Have Known Better ("this could only happen to me" oh, john)

97.         Can’t Buy Me Love (one of the more Lennonesque mccartney songs)

96.         One After 909 (how did paul not know what this was about for over a decade)

95.         I’ve Just Seen a Face (absolutely gorgeous guitar)

94.         This Boy (thaaaasss boyyyy)

93.         You Won’t See Me (fab little chorus)

92.         Maxwell’s Silver Hammer (BANG BANG MAXWELL'S SILVER HAMMER CAME DOWN UPON HER HEAD 🔨 🔨🔨)

91.         Dear Prudence ("the clouds will be a daisy chain" is a line i've always adored)

90.         Yellow Submarine (i remember being 6 and our teacher playing this for us on her guitar)

89.         Mean Mr Mustard (love when john does a bit of narrative songwriting)

88.         Revolution (superior revolution version)

87.         Now and Then (cried on the tram on the way to college listening to this when it came out. as you were)

86.         Polythene Pam (love when their accent peaks through)

85.         Baby, You’re A Rich Man (a true lennon-mccartney collab with john not finishing something and paul adding his two cents, or rather, ten or twenty cents)

84.         Hello, Goodbye (i love the end of this song so so much)

83.         Mother Nature’s Son (soft and sweet, poignant but not sappy, one of the most underrated beatles songs of all time)

82.         Free As A Bird (cried listening to this too)

81.         Glass Onion (intertextual metanarrative: the song)

80.         Taxman (baby's first political song <3)

79.         I Wanna Be Your Man (hiiiiii again ringo)

78.         From Me To You (harmonica time again baby!)

77.         Being For The Benefit of Mr Kite! (i think of this as a spooky halloween waltz)

76.         Within You Without You (quintessential george)

75.         I’m Only Sleeping (underrated on revolver methinks)

74.         Your Mother Should Know (these songs WERE a hit before my mother was born)

73.         All My Loving (pure vintage mccartney)

72.         Do You want to Know a Secret (baby george and his fab vocals)

71.         Here Comes The Sun (okay nobody kill me. stop looking at me like that. its been winter for seventeen months george i can't fucking see the sun)

70.         Julia (so beautiful)

69.         Love Me Do (how were they pop song professionals already?)

68.         I Saw Her Standing There (paul loves a good scream in the middle of a song)

67.         A Hard Day’s Night (most iconic beginning of any song ever)

66.         Magical Mystery Tour (he loves a bus does paul)

65.         And Your Bird Can Sing (john's vocals are GREAT here)

64.         Sun King (the superior sun song on abbey road)

63.         Please Please Me (just. iconic)

62.         Eight Days a Week (for how good it is i can't believe paul didn't play it live till like 2013 or smth)

61.         Real Love (i never knew this was a beatles song when i was a kid!)

60.         The End ("the love you take is equal to the love you make"... yeah...)

59.         Back in the USSR ("my-my-my-my-" very billy joel actually)

58.         Ticket to Ride (mouth-watering guitar)

57.         For No One (the wario of 'And Your Bird Can Sing' no i won't explain further)

56.         All You Need Is Love (the she loves you yeah yeah yeahs at the end...)

55.         Blue Jay Way (so wonderfully eerie to me)

54.         She Loves You (love the long and powerful held note on the last "glad")

53.         I Want To Hold Your Hand (they were children my god)

52.         Across the Universe (some of my favourite vocals)

51.         Carry That Weight (paul going through it, writing bangers)

50.         Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da (desmond and molly jones are close friends of mine at this stage)

49.         Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds (overrated a bit imo but still simply iconic)

48.         Penny Lane (sorry paul, john won the MMT round w strawberry fields but its okay this song still is a bop)

47.         Tomorrow Never Knows (fucking well done on this one lads. love it)

46.         Getting Better ("a little better all the time" v "it can't get no worse" is just. peak lennon mccartney)

45.         Got To Get You Into My Life (INSTANT banger)

44.         Michelle (i am a sucker for french as long as its not spoken by french people <3)

43.         Lovely Rita (i always loved this one because paul says "book" like how my nanny says it)

42.         Helter Skelter (loud, fast, and brilliant)

41.         Get Back (billy preston the man that you were)

40.         She Came In Through The Bathroom Window (best of the abbey road medley)

39.         I’ve Got a Feeling (i LOVE paul's deep voice)

38.         When I’m Sixty Four (i love paul's granny music. sue me)

37.         Come Together (john was so good at writing these nonsense songs)

36.         The Fool on The Hill (adore the "ohHhHhHhHhHhh")

35.         Fixing a Hole ("when i'm wrong, i'm right" is so very paul)

34.         Girl (BRILLIANT middle)

33.         Help! (vulnerable without overdoing it. just fantastic)

32.         Day Tripper (unashamedly sexy)

31.         And I Love Her (i love basically everything about this song. ranking got so hard from here)

30.         You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away (john was ON IT for Help!)

29.         Nowhere Man (my brother thinks this will be the name of john's biopic)

28.         Lady Madonna (my favourite genre of paul songs are songs where he voyeuristically imagines someone's life. they always slap)

27.         Paperback Writer (i also write at shitty newspapers and want to be a paperback writer. this song feels too targeted)

26.         In My Life (so pretty. SO pretty)

25.         The Ballad of John and Yoko (imagine the vibes in the recording studio. john. yoko. paul. and yet they made this banger)

24.         Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) (my first ever favourite beatles song. has since been demoted but i still adore it)

23.         I am the Walrus (john at his weirdest best)

22.         She’s Leaving Home (i love when they write narratively)

21.         If I Fell (angelic harmonies)

20.         Don’t Let Me Down (fifth beatle billy preston supremacy)

19.         Because ("love is all, love is you"

18.         I Want You (She’s So Heavy) (vocals, instruments, lyrics, vibes, all incredible)

17.         Two Of Us (and if i said this was the best album opener?)

16.         Here, There, and Everywhere (paul says this is his favourite beatles song and you know what? he's so right for that)

15.         Oh! Darling (wario of the long and winding road. no i will not elaborate either)

14.         You Never Give Me Your Money ("OUT OF COLLEGE MONEY SPENT SEE NO FUTURE PAY NOT RENT" that is... me right this actual moment)

13.         Something (george said is anyone else gonna write one of the best love songs of all time? no okay i guess i will. and he did.)

12.         Golden Slumbers (cried to this as well. must stress i am not one to cry)

11.         Eleanor Rigby (the pinnacle of the MVS - McCartney Voyeuristic Storytelling)

10.         A Day in The Life (orchestra used to scare me when i was younger)

9.           While My Guitar Gently Weeps (george's best beatles song hands down)

8.           I’ll Follow the Sun (THE MOST UNDERRATED BEATLES SONG and i will die on this hill

7.           Yesterday (my father's favourite beatles song)

6.           The Long and Winding Road (my go to song to sing in the shower for some reason?)

5.           We Can Work It Out (pure lennon-mccartney baby!)

4.           Let It Be (the first and only song i ever learnt on ukulele and i was so proud of it)

3.           Strawberry Fields Forever (do i even have to say anything?)

2.           Blackbird (everything about this song is so beautifully perfect. paul mccartney is the best songwriter of all time okay. i've spent days upon days at this list and it's now making me emotional)

1.           Hey Jude (there's a reason it tops so many best songs of all time lists. a perfect 10. no notes. iconic. the first beatles song i played on repeat. would die slash kill to experience this live)